


Yea, Though I Walk Through the Valley

by cinelitchick



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Body Worship, Domestic Fluff, Exorcisms, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Horror, Humor, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Marcus and Tomas are in love and happy, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 93,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23635426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinelitchick/pseuds/cinelitchick
Summary: The search for Bennett leads Marcus, Tomas, and Mouse to Preston, Pennsylvania. What began as the trio hunting down their integrated friend in order to exorcise the demon within becomes much bigger than they anticipated. If they fail, more than Bennett's soul will be lost.
Relationships: Devon Bennett & Marcus Keane, Devon Bennett & Tomas Ortega, Marcus Keane & Mouse, Marcus Keane/Tomas Ortega, Mouse & Tomas Ortega, Mouse (The Exorcist)/Original Female Character
Comments: 169
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final installment in the Season 3 AU trilogy, which also includes The Trials of Tomas Ortega and God Only Knows.
> 
> When I started this story, I didn't think it would morph into the beast it became. I am quite happy with it and I hope it works as well as I believe it does.
> 
> May you enjoy this finale as much as I did writing it.

The crowd was thick as Mouse made her way through the multitude of people. Carnival sounds filled the air along with the aroma of funnel cake, chili and sulfur. So many innocent souls were milling around the fairgrounds that night. Men, women and children roamed about laughing, shrieking, talking, singing. 

The cacophony nearly did Mouse’s head in, but she kept her focus as her eyes scanned the area for him. He had purposely chosen this location; of that, there was no question. What was he planning? She had wondered more than once. Death and destruction were the obvious answers, but he wasn’t obvious. Never had been when he was still human. Since he had integrated, he had become even trickier.

A girl about eight years old with long, dark hair caught Mouse’s attention. She stood to the woman’s left with her parents near the shooting gallery. Her father had tried his luck, but failed. The Mandarin that flowed from the girl’s mouth made her heart stop. She wore vibrant, floral leggings and an electric blue sweater that hung to her knees with brown ankle boots.

“No. It’s not her. She’s not real.”

Mouse closed her eyes and willed her pulse to slow. When she opened them, the girl turned her head toward her. Blackness where her eyes should be, she smiled showing a mouthful of razor-sharp fangs. The bigger her grin became the larger her mouth grew until it took up more than half her face.

Blood ran down from the center of the girl’s forehead. She spoke in Mandarin, her voice distorted.

“Couldn’t save _me_. How the hell will you save yourself?”

A gunshot sounded. Mouse blinked. The girl, as it happened, was a stranger. She wasn’t who Mouse thought she was when she first saw her. This girl was happily cheering her mother, who had just won her the stuffed unicorn she wanted. This girl was alive and demon-free.

Mouse tore her attention away from the family and continued making her away through the crowd. Her dark brown hair was pinned back at the sides, per usual. She lifted the rest of it off her neck in one smooth gesture as she scanned faces. Two men stumbled off the Ferris wheel, enamored with each other. One was a dark blond and the other had jet black hair. Her heart tightened despite herself. The hand holding up her tresses dropping to her side. Fuck, she missed her friends. She hadn’t even had the pleasure of seeing them as a full-blown couple.

No sooner had the wayward Marcus returned from his self-induced exile in search for Tomas, she had received a call about their mutual acquaintance. Since then, Marcus and Tomas had patched up their differences; even admitted they were in love with each other. 

She had to admit she was shocked when she first saw them together all those months ago on Nachburn Island, Washington, off the coast of Seattle. Mouse had come across Tomas first, knowing him by name only. 

Marcus, she had a history with and it wasn’t all roses. Though maybe that was more accurate than she had realized what with their thorns. Spiky was the best way to describe their relationship currently, but she hoped maybe their scars had healed enough to start again as friends.

When she saw how intimate and connected they were, it shook her. She had never seen Marcus that way with anyone. At one point, Mouse had foolishly thought he had felt for her as more than a friend. Perhaps, he had. Regardless, it was foolish because she had been a novitiate then, and he was a priest and a trained exorcist.

As a smile played on her lips while she observed the Ferris wheel couple, something else caught her eye.

_Someone_ else.

Devon Bennett stood in the middle of the fairway less than one hundred feet away. Her friend, whom she had let down by leaving him alone and unprotected in a Spokane hospital while she went after Marcus and Tomas, stared her down. He didn’t move, allowing the townsfolk to maneuver around him.

He wore jeans, loafers, and a buttoned-up, dark blue short trench coat. If she didn’t know better, Mouse would swear he was enjoying the standoff.

Unfortunately, she did. He was soaking up the joyous energy; trying to feed off it, but it wasn’t enough. Her gaze followed him when he looked up at the Ferris wheel.

Mouse’s heart rate took off again. _All those people_. Then, she considered those on the ground and her stomach lurched. Her eyes found Bennett’s.

Cocking his head, he considered her as he pondered what to do. So much potential here. How far did he want to go? With a half-smile, he had reached his decision. Bennett raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Then, he walked away as the wooden stands that littered the carnival burst into flames.

  
  
  
  


The mass exodus that erupted immediately after, knocked Mouse on her ass. In the melee, she lost track of Bennett. Once back on her feet, the sea of bodies took her away from the general direction she had seen him head in just after his latest trick. 

It was he who had given her no choice but to kill the young Chinese girl in Woodstock, New York. An event that stuck with her, reminding her every choice has a consequence. The poor kid had only accepted the demon that presented itself to her because Bennett and a couple Church henchmen had begun torturing her parents. Bones had been broken. Muscles pulled like taffy. The screams from the family had been too much for her or Mouse to bear.

Mouse had tracked Bennett to the little house on the quiet block thanks to friends she had made in her travels. Some knew Marcus, which made introductions and trust easier. Even then, it wasn’t a guarantee.

Some had been aware of Tomas, whom she had brought with her when they were together on the road. Tomas, who could make friends with anyone with his easy grace, open face and sincerity.

She had next to no people skills, so new relationships were a chore to be handled as quickly as possible. In short bursts, Mouse could be pleasant. Brutal honesty was more comfortable for her. It showed her where she stood with others and vice versa. Wine is fine, but liquor is quicker as the saying goes. 

A teacher of Amy Qwan’s had noticed her strange behavior of late. She was friends with the secretary of a local Catholic church, who had passed all relevant data to her compadres through an online chatroom. 

Mouse had received a text with the intel, as well as a photo of a new parishioner chatting with Amy Qwan’s parents. A man who had recently arrived in Woodstock with dark skin and brown eyes that resembled pools of ink in the right light. By the time, Mouse had gotten into town and made her way to the Qwan house, it had been too late.

No amount of exorcism was going to win the day. Amy Qwan had fully integrated with her demon. The second pupil in her right eye was proof. So was the brutal murders of Mr. and Mrs. Qwan by the demon Amy. 

Mouse had pulled a gun on Bennett. Not that she blamed the man. It was the demon that had tricked him into letting it in that she abhorred with every fiber of her being. This unclean spirit which had polluted Bennett’s soul and legacy as a man of God. A good man. A righteous man.

It wasn’t that easy, of course. Her aim had been reset so she was pointing the gun at Amy. Mouse could hear those sweet words Bennett was whispering in her ear about how it was the only way to save the young girl’s soul. Unnatural though it was for a demon to encourage the death of one of its own, Mouse found it hard to argue the logic of it.

Which was exactly what Bennett had been counting on, after all. Corrupting a soul was business. But if that soul belonged to an exorcist and former novitiate, who had been once possessed? That was perfection.

The sound of the bullet leaving the chamber would haunt Mouse until the day she died. As would the image just seconds before of Amy Qwan hunched over her mother’s body chewing on the woman’s arm. 

When she turned around to confront Bennett about this turn of events, he was gone. Amy’s body lay sprawled on the floor next to those of her parents. Police sirens could be heard in the distance. Mouse had vanished by the time officers found the grisly scene.

  
  
  
  


A loud crash nearby brought Mouse out of her reverie. In that instant, she saw Bennett slowly making his way through the crowd. He was headed away from the commotion. It took Mouse a few long seconds to find a rhythm in her fight against the tide of carnival patrons.

All around her, flames reached for the sky as the individual fires threatened to unite into one huge blaze. Smoke was billowing. Thank God they were outside and not indoors. She could only imagine the body count had this not been in a wide open space such as this.

Eventually, Mouse pushed herself out of the strong current of bodies. She stumbled into an alleyway behind the row of burning stands and kiosks. Just keep moving, she told herself. Bennett remained in her line of sight. It was intentional. He wanted her to find him, to follow him.

Like a cat playing with a mouse.

A sharp cough burst out of her lungs. The smoke was affecting her even though she had gotten away from the worst of it. She ploughed ahead; the glow from the flames lighting the way. The short, patchy grass exposed the hard dirt beneath. Her boots slammed onto the ground as she pushed herself onward. 

There was a barn up ahead. It had seen better days from the looks of it. Mouse rubbed her neck. Her throat had an unexplained tightness to it. Perhaps she had breathed in more smoke than she had thought. Every breath she took, it became harder to push the air into her lungs. Occasionally, her vision blurred.

“What the hell?” she mumbled before losing her footing and falling to her knees. 

More coughing followed. No blood though, so that was something. She raised her head to see Bennett in the distance. Always three steps ahead he was. He waited patiently for her to find her feet.

“Come now, Mouse.” His voice in her head. He was too far away to see if his lips were moving, but she knew they weren’t. “You’re so close. The cheese awaits.”

“Fuck you and your damn cheese,” she growled. “We both know this is a trap.”

“Then, why follow me?”

“You know why.”

Silence. Then, “It would be best if you just let him go. Devon Bennett has left the building. I am him and he is me, and there is nothing left to save. Go back to the lion and his cub, little Mouse. Tend to the wounds that come with resurrection.”

Resurrection? Who had died and come back? _Marcus._ Instinctively, she knew the answer. She had barely talked to him and Tomas in the past two weeks. It must have happened then. If she survived this, they had a lot of catching up to do. Preferably over much alcohol.

“You didn’t know. Seems like someone is out of the loop. Third wheels are so inconsequential, don’t you find?”

“Those wounds will heal whether I’m there or not,” she replied, ignoring the taunt. “I’ll see them for myself just as soon as I finish with you.”

“Then, by all means, let us get this party started.” He turned and headed for the barn, slipping inside when he reached the slightly ajar door.

Mouse picked up the pace, but kept a healthy distance between them. When she reached the front of the barn, she said a silent prayer and aloud quoted Deuteronomy 31:6.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.”

She crossed herself, took a deep breath and entered the structure.

It was dark inside, save for the few lanterns that lit up as she walked deeper within. In the distance, she could still hear the screams of innocents who had only wanted some respite from their daily lives; a bit of fun within their community. The sounds made her heart ache despite herself. 

For years, she had built up walls to spare her the pain and loss she had endured when Marcus left her while she had been possessed. She had never sought him out once she had been saved. There hadn’t been any point. He had made his decision and in doing so, she had made hers.

Then, she had teamed up with Bennett and been thrust back onto Marcus’ path. It was still rough between them, but they had come to understand neither was the same person anymore. 

Being around Tomas all those months, nursing his broken heart while encouraging him to embrace his visions and harness them for the weapon of good they were, had helped her take her mind off her past. She had been making excellent progress before Marcus reappeared — and, coincidentally enough, Bennett.

Coincidence.

Mouse had been around demons long enough to know there was no such thing as coincidence. Marcus had talked to God, which sent him scurrying back to Tomas. Bennett resurfaced on the very day Marcus had found her and Tomas in Massachusetts. 

She had immediately bailed to track down her prey, separating them once more. They hadn’t been together for more than a day, maybe two, when Marcus walked into the Washington sunset. Just when the three of them were in one location again, in Massachusetts, _she_ left.

Marcus died, but was brought back. By whom? God, presumably. Did Tomas play a hand in his revival? Had he foreseen the older man’s death? Mouse had so many questions, but knew only two things for certain.

One: She, Marcus and Tomas were stronger together.

Two: She had walked into a trap.

The rope was around her neck before she knew it, tightening itself as it lifted her off the ground. Mouse fought for a way to loosen the noose, but the knot was impenetrable. Her mind flashed back to just a few minutes ago when she had trouble breathing; paired with the tightness in her throat and blurred vision, it all made sense now. It had been a premonition, a warning.

This was how she died.

Her last cogent thought was of Marcus Keane: dark blond, confident, with a wickedly irrepressible smile, and a sense of humor to match.

Then, she blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

The noise was unbearable. It filled the room, breaking through her consciousness until there was no ignoring it. Mouse buried her head in the pillow, hoping for the sake of her own sanity it would stop. After another minute, it was obvious the pounding would not cease. Slowly, her brain made the connection that the sound was coming from the door.

She didn’t know what time it was nor did she care. Blissful, dreamless sleep had found her and she refused to let it go. It was too soon. Another eight to twelve hours were required. Why she was so exhausted she couldn’t fathom, but it didn’t matter. All she wanted was for slumber to envelop her once more. Oblivion was calling out to her like a lover on the moors as an overcast sky loomed.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

A growl came from deep within her. Mouse pushed herself up and threw back the covers. She glanced at the mirror in front of the bed and did a double take. Her hand flew up to her throat as she moved in for closer inspection. The reflection revealed she was wearing a cropped gray tee with “Fuck mornings,” complete with a middle finger replacing the “I”, emblazoned upon the front and olive green boy shorts. 

Oh, and she was sporting a deep bruise around her neck. “What the hell?”

Gingerly, her fingers touched the purple/blue/black mark. As soon as she did, last night came back to her. Up until she passed out. She looked around the room as the pounding on the door resumed.

Mouse swallowed, wincing as she did so. It hurt like hell when she did that. The banging wasn’t going to quit, so she went to the door and flung it open. Bright afternoon light burned her retinas, forcing her to squint and raise her hand to block the sun so it didn’t blind her.

“¡Dios mío!”

“What the hell happened?!”

Both were said at the exact same time, but by two different people.

The Spanish exclamation was courtesy of Tomas Ortega. He wore a look of shock and revulsion on his handsome, boyish features. The facial hair he had adopted nearly a year ago gave him some much needed gravitas, as did the flecks of gray in his beard.

As for the blunt question, that came from Marcus Keane. Never one for tact when a direct line of communication would do, he seemed more frustrated than concerned. Probably because he had seen more than his share of violence. Older than Tomas, his general haggardness, paired with his close-cropped dark blond tresses and thin facial hair belied a kind and gentle soul. 

“Oh, good. You found me.” Mouse congratulated them, leaving the door open so she could crawl back into bed. Her voice raspy from her encounter last night.

“We found you five hours ago,” Marcus pointed out bitterly. “We’ve been calling and knocking on that bloody door every hour since we got here.”

“Are you okay?” Tomas asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He kept his distance, choosing to be nearer to his partner.

Mouse looked at her phone to check the time, ignoring the multiple notifications of missed messages and calls, and shrugged. “I was sleeping.”

“What did you take? What did the doctor prescribe?” He nodded at her neck.

She angled her head so her scarlet choker wouldn’t be so obvious. Just her luck to wake up to the Spanish Inquisition. “Nothing. I just passed out and woke up here.”

Marcus crawled onto the bed, keeping to the foot of it next to Tomas. “Mouse. What happened?” His voice was softer this time.

“Bennett. I knowingly walked into a trap and he gave me a parting gift. Next thing I know, you two are waking me up.

“There’s another thing,” she added before either of the men could speak. “We’re being targeted. He’s trying to knock us off the board. Together, we’re a threat. I think he’s scared of us. We’ve been so busy looking for a way to defeat him, we missed the obvious. _We_ are God’s war-club; His weapons of war.”

  
  
  
  


The city of Preston, Pennsylvania, had a population of 4,736. Small enough to avoid the trappings of a metropolis and big enough to not be labeled a small town. Moving around the place required a vehicle for the most part, unless you were visiting the downtown or one of the parks, a couple of which had river access in addition to hiking and bicycle trails.

Marcus and Tomas walked around the downtown area while Mouse napped. She was due to meet them in a couple hours. Her words still rattled around in their heads. It wasn’t the first time she had opined God gave Tomas his gift of second sight as a means to an end. In her mind, it was to be weaponized and used accordingly.

Neither man liked that idea. Tomas wanted to harness it, so it wasn’t just randomly activated. It scared him he could just have a vision at any time with no warning. Once, it happened while he was driving their old pickup truck while Marcus was in the bed of it with a woman named Cindy, who had been possessed. Cindy’s sheriff husband and his friends were chasing them at the time, but that’s neither here nor there.

Leery of Tomas’ gift, Marcus had been reluctant to embrace the visions. He couldn’t trust they weren’t a Trojan horse from the Devil himself. It took time, but he had just begun to come around when he left Tomas in Mouse’s care. It was a selfish move; he didn’t deny it. 

However, it also was necessary. He had just killed Andy Kim, who had been possessed following the death of his wife. Andy had gained control of himself just long enough to tell Marcus, who had a gun trained on him, to pull the trigger. This not only released Andy’s soul, but saved Tomas, who nearly sacrificed himself in order to save his ward.

One life for another.

A move he repeated when he walked out on Tomas in that Seattle motel room. In a bid to save himself, and by extension his friend, Marcus bowed out. His wide-brimmed, black fedora on his head and his backpack slung over his shoulder, he headed to destinations unknown. His exile had come to an end some months later when God Himself reached out to his wayward son.

Tomas pulled Marcus into a nearby beer garden, where they grabbed a table and ordered two hard ciders. It was late afternoon, but neither was ready to drown themselves in alcohol just yet. There was plenty of time for that later.

“So we’re back to being weapons,” Tomas surmised bitterly. “That’s all we are? Nothing more than bringers of death? Every life, every soul, we save is just collateral damage?”

“No.” Marcus spoke with conviction. “We were never not weapons. Every priest, every exorcist, every soldier worth their salt is a weapon in the fight against evil. The lives and souls we save are a win for us all. Don’t let General Mouse get in your head, luv. You know what the mission is. It hasn’t changed.”

Taking his partner’s hand in his, Tomas squeezed it. The leather cord around his right wrist flexing enough for the St. Benedict’s medal attached to reflect a smidge of sunlight. A token of the love and trust between them, Marcus had given his most prized possession to Tomas not long ago on a picnic table outside of a motel a day’s drive from Hartford, Connecticut. Just hearing Marcus’ words now silenced the doubt that had started to take seed in his heart. He gave him a lazy grin. His eyes filled with compassion, grateful he had someone who had his back and whom he was able to support in return.

“What about Bennett? He’s still a part of the mission, too, is he not? You know, Mouse. She’ll want to put a stop to him once and for all. Life be damned. 

“I always hoped she would come around to our way of thinking,” Tomas continued. “Instead, she made me realize that sometimes the end justifies the means. I understand both sides, Marcus. But I fear she’ll be lost to the bloodlust. She doesn’t see the person when she’s fighting. She sees the demon. In her mind, her orders are shoot to kill.”

“First of all, the ends rarely justify the means. Andy Kim is proof of that.” Marcus took a pull from his glass, letting the cold cider coast down his throat. “Second, I had hoped you had at least made her think before she shoots. I’m not giving up on Bennett. Not until I have to. Even then, I’ll fight you on it.”

Tomas took a swig from his own glass. He took the time to carefully choose his next words. As he did so, his gaze caught the headline of the local newspaper that had been left on a nearby table. Lifting himself up, he reached over and grabbed it. Sitting down, he scanned the story.

His reaction as he read got Marcus’ attention. “What is it?”

“There was a fire at the carnival last night.” He tossed the paper down on the table so it was facing the dark blond. “The whole thing went up in flames while about half the town was there. I’m guessing Mouse was there. Her throat and this on the same night? That’s not a coincidence.”

Marcus grinned at his partner. “You’re getting good at this, luv.” He turned his attention back to the story, his humor evaporating. “Christ. Nearly one hundred people were treated for severe burns and smoke inhalation. Another forty died. Those poor sods.” His eyes were wet. “Eight of them were younger than eighteen.”

He tilted his head back and blew out a breath. 

Across from him, Tomas crossed himself. “In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit. Father of all, we pray to You for those who left us last night, and for all those whom we love but no longer see. Grant to them eternal rest. Let light perpetual shine upon them. May these souls and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.”

“Amen.” Marcus crossed himself. The photo with the story had taken his focus. He hunched over the newspaper, hands clutching it. His nose was practically touching the newsprint. Leaning back, he handed it over to Tomas. “Anyone look familiar?”

Tomas stared at the photo for a long moment. Then, he saw what Marcus had seen. “Bennett _was_ there.” He looked up at his partner. “We need to go to this site.”

“Read my mind.” His phone rang. It was Mouse. “Feeling better? … The Red Apple Diner?”

He shot Tomas a look silently asking if that worked for him. The younger man nodded. “We’ll meet you there. Cheers.”

“Our crime scene investigation will have to wait,” Tomas informed him. “The sun will go down in just over an hour.”

“Tomorrow then,” Marcus agreed. “Just as well. We should grill our star witness first. Give us a better idea of what exactly it is we are up against.”

“We know what we are up against.” Tomas drained his glass. “What we need to know is what he is up to and how to stop him.”

  
  
  
  


The Red Apple Diner was located a few blocks southeast of the beer garden. It was a popular hangout regardless of age. Out front of the standalone building, the freestanding sign featured said fruit with a bite out of it. An electric sign just above the door had the name of the establishment in a 1950s Lydian font. 

Half of the building gave the illusion it was covered horizontally in aluminum while the bottom half was painted red. The whole thing appeared to be from a bygone era, which it was as it had opened in 1952. It also seemed bigger on the inside. Booths were packed comfortably under the windows with a wraparound counter in the middle.

A two-thirds full parking lot made Marcus happy he had found a spot in a municipal lot, which didn’t charge on Sundays. He and Tomas entered the diner with some trepidation. Crowds were not their forte. 

Tomas had never used to mind interacting with the public. As a priest, he once had a parish of his own in Chicago. St. Anthony’s had been his port in the storm of his tumultuous emotional life. Externally, he led a good life in the Windy City. He saw his sister, Olivia, and nephew Luis regularly. His parishioners loved him as did his boss, Bishop Egan, who saw a bright future for his rising star.

Then, he was led to Marcus at St. Aquinas, a home for broken priests outside Chicago, and his life was forever changed. When you’re constantly on the run from the Catholic Church because they have put a target on your back, isolation becomes your friend. It sucks uncovering a demonic conspiracy at work, when your place of business has deep pockets and is being taken over by the Devil himself.

Marcus was good with people in small doses. He had charm to spare when he put his mind to it. However, his interactions with his fellow humans had left him leery of most who crossed his path. He trusted his instincts, which he had honed almost since birth. It was easy to start listening to your gut when your life depended on it from the moment you wake up and even at times while you were asleep.

A hostess greeted them and led the couple to a booth near the back when Tomas informed her there would be a third person joining them. While they waited, Marcus fiddled with the tabletop jukebox. He smiled when he saw the selections it offered.

“You can put in a quarter or two, if you want,” Tomas suggested, relaxing as he removed his black leather jacket and enjoying the grin on his partner’s lips.

“Nah.” Marcus shot him a look. He loved Tomas for encouraging him and he _was_ tempted. However, they weren’t here on a date. If they were, he would already have three songs queued and they wouldn’t be waiting on anyone else. And he would be touching his love, whereas now he was keeping his hands to himself. “Another time perhaps.”

Tomas had been about to tell his boyfriend to drop the damn quarter in when he saw him react to something. The younger man had his back to the door, but the way Marcus sobered and corrected his posture told him what he needed to know.

Mouse slid in next to Tomas, who moved down on the bench to make room. “Good. You found the place. I didn’t see your SUV when I pulled in, so I wasn’t sure. Where did you get that anyway? Rob an FBI agent … or a cartel boss?”

“Won it in a poker game, actually.” Marcus leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, and a smug grin on his lips.

She smiled. “Of course, you did.” 

Opening the menu in front of her, she asked if they had ordered. 

Tomas shook his head. “Just water. We only got here a couple minutes ago.”

Looking over the menus, they figured out what they wanted and told their waiter when he returned.

When he left, she cocked her head and gestured between the two of them. “You _are_ together now, right? I’m assuming it was settled the day I left?”

Both men’s cheeks glowed red as they didn’t attempt to hide the joy that burned within.

“Yeah,” Marcus agreed. “We managed to work it out.”

“There was a moment or two when I wasn’t sure,” Tomas admitted. His gaze shifted from her to the man across from him. “But he wouldn’t give up. Even though I was convinced he had. That _I_ had.”

Marcus shrugged, ducking his head bashfully. “Yeah, well. I might have if not for the slap upside the head from our Father.”

Tomas rose enough to run a hand over his boyfriend’s head till it rested on the nape of his neck. “We all need it sometimes, querido. It’s what keeps us honest and on the right path.”

“Amen.” Mouse said quietly. After a moment, she added, “I’m really happy for you two. I also think you’re deeply masochistic for trying to have a relationship during a war, but you’re hardly the first.”

“You have to take happiness wherever and whenever you can,” Tomas philosophized. “I would rather have Marcus in my arms and in my bed for a short time than never at all. I know what it’s like to live without him and know he’s out in the world. That’s worse than anything a demon could throw at me.”

Eyes wet and breath shallow, Marcus found himself unable to look away from his lover. Beautiful in more ways than could be seen by the naked eye, Tomas never failed to shake him to his very core with his depth of feeling and way with words.

“What he said,” the older man said with conviction. “That goes double for me.”

As the men looked at each other adoringly, Mouse rolled her eyes. Turning away from the devotion of love before her, she muttered, “I think I’m regretting ordering anything.”

  
  
  
  


“So what brought you to Pennsylvania?” Marcus asked as he turned his focus back to his friend after shedding his own black leather jacket. “The only thing your text said was your location.”

“YouTube.” Mouse looked at him straight in the eye, her voice monotone.

She wasn’t known for her sense of humor, at least not these days. There had been a time when her laugh would fill his heart and her smile would lift his soul. That was a long time ago in a place very far away. Back when the darkness hadn’t exposed itself to her and enveloped her soul for a period.

Mouse’s possession was still a bone of contention between them. Marcus had many regrets in his life: chief among them were walking away from Tomas all those months ago in Seattle and doing the same to Mouse when he believed she could not be saved.

How wrong he had been. When he had learned the truth, it had driven him to be the exorcist he was today. Devout, devoted and unrelenting. Marcus had learned the hard way you don’t stop fighting until there was nothing left to fight. He only wished his foolish error hadn’t cost him his friendship with Mouse. But better than her soul or her life, he reasoned.

He decided she wasn’t taking the piss. “How so?”

“A vlogger on the site was doing one of those ‘my town is weirder than your town’ challenges. He filmed a bunch of sites, whatever. Nothing exceptionally weird to a layman. Then, he gets to this middle school where this kid was killed by her history teacher. Some bullshit about showing off his historic gun during Aaron Burr Day or something.

“What got my attention was the deafening sound of crows while he was filming.”

Tomas remembered the crow that slammed into the window of his office at St. Anthony’s in Chicago. It had scared the crap out of him at the time. More so, when he had learned the bird was a portend. The first of many breadcrumbs that had led him into the world of exorcism.

“The school has something evil attached to it?” he asked.

“That’s what I thought at first. But then, I went back and watched every video this guy shot over the past two weeks.” Her gaze volleyed between the men. “Each one, he shot at a different location. Each one had a different occurrence. A pond where the water is blood red — which turned out to be a stunt by the dumbass and his friends. What wasn’t faked were the dogs barking, bugs congregating, and cats attacking.

“Hell, one video from a farmer in the next town posted yesterday had footage of a perfectly healthy calf being born only for the thing to go insane and attack its mother. The man’s wife put the calf down before it could do any real damage to their cow.”

Mouse shivered. She had been witness to several disturbing events in her life — some of which she had instigated — but that calf was easily in the top three. Marcus whipping out his phone caught her attention. “What?”

He held up a finger as he searched for what it was he sought. A minute later, he found it just as their food arrived. When the waiter had left, Marcus held up his phone so both Tomas and Mouse could see the screen. “I thought your story sounded familiar. I came across this story on the local news station’s website this morning while you were both sleeping.”

This development did not sit well with Tomas. Yes, it was sad and disturbing to learn the mother cow had been put down late last night after showing similar symptoms to that of her calf. There had been no other signs this was nothing but an isolated incident. However, area wildlife officials were on alert nonetheless.

It brought to mind Nachburn Island, where one of Andy Kim’s foster sons had witnessed an unusual birth at a local farm. In that instance, it was a lamb. Nonetheless, it was only the beginning of a dark time for the Kim’s and the island.

No, what disquieted Tomas on a more personal level was hearing Marcus admit he hadn’t been sleeping. He thought his partner had been able to move past this side effect, but he had been wrong. Marcus had stopped mentioning it and told Tomas he had slept well when asked.

This had been going on for the past two weeks. Ever since Marcus returned from the dead. He had been struck down by a demon during the exorcism of a young boy only to be back among the living by the time Tomas had returned from his trip inside the mind of the demon. As it turned out, he and Marcus had exorcised the evil and saved the boy.

He said nothing, but his look to his partner informed the older man there would be a conversation in their immediate future.

_Can’t bloody wait._ These were the times when Marcus thought of Tomas as the mother he never really had. Feelings of fondness and consternation only cemented the sentiment.

“Shit.” Mouse brought them both back to the matter at hand as she finished reading the story on Marcus’ phone. She handed it back to him. “I hadn’t realized.”

“Well, you were a bit occupied last night,” he said drolly. “Eat. Your food’s getting cold. Then, you can tell us in excruciating detail what you got up to.”

  
  
  
  


As the trio continued occupying the booth near the back, the crowd began to thin. The streetlights came on as dusk settled over the town. More seating became available over time. Gossip from nearby patrons led to them overhearing how the carnival wasn’t going to reopen until next year, if ever. It came as no surprise the event wouldn’t be up and running any time soon. Last night was both its opening and its closing. It had been scheduled to be there for a week.

“So what happened last night?” Tomas asked gently. He had no doubt whatever it was had been traumatizing. His heart clenched whenever he saw the marks on her neck. Rope burns. As if…. He swallowed. This was her story to tell; not his to speculate.

Mouse finished the last of her breakfast platter. It hadn’t been easy swallowing, and she should have gone for soup, but she had wanted something more substantial. She had been craving fried eggs, bacon, scrapple and toast. Eating every bite as the final bit of toast, sopping wet with yolk, made it into her mouth. Heaven. Reaching for her tea cup, she drained the last drops. She felt sated for the first time in days. 

No. Longer.

Eyes glued to her plate, she knew why she felt the way she did. It was because she was with the only people whom she gave a damn about her in this fucked up world. Mouse didn’t have to look up to know they cared about her. They were there, weren’t they? Despite their history, Marcus hadn’t questioned her inclusion. He had trusted Tomas with her. That had spoken volumes even back then.

Their waiter returned to clear their plates as Mouse placed another tea bag into her cup, adding hot water and lemon from the small carafe and bowl on the table. Marcus had ordered two glasses of water instead of requesting another round on his and Tomas’ sodas. The dark blond knew once Mouse started talking, it would take awhile. 

Tomas caught his eye when Marcus had asked for the change in beverage. That smile always did funny things to his heart. He winked in response and enjoyed the heat that hit his boyfriend’s cheeks.

It wasn’t till after they had their drinks that Mouse told her story. She left nothing out, knowing it would just come back to bite them in the ass later. This included Amy Qwan and the girl at the carnival who was not her. This _did not_ include the gay couple by the Ferris wheel. Not everything was relevant.

“I spotted Bennett. He spotted me. Next thing, he snapped his fingers and _whoosh!_ The booths were in flames, and people were running and screaming for their lives. I lost him for a few minutes, but found him. Almost wish I hadn’t.” She muttered the last sentence under her breath.

It wasn’t low enough for her friends not to hear.

“So, I followed him to this barn out back behind the carnival grounds. It wasn’t until I was maybe five, ten feet away when I had trouble breathing. My vision blurred. I fell to my knees. I didn’t know what was going on.

“It passed and Bennett started talking to me. Led me in that damn barn like the Pied Piper. I was so stupid. But part of me knew I was doing and what _he_ was doing. Right before I entered, I had my epiphany about how they were trying to take us out, but God kept putting us back on the board.

“Anyway, I go in only for a rope to slip around my neck and take me skyward. There was no one there besides Bennett and he wasn’t touching anything. I think he had his hands in his pockets.” She shrugged, touching her neck. The waiter had stared at her mark repeatedly, but she had no desire to hide her mistake. “Maybe not. I don’t remember much from that time except the rope and the thought that I was bested by a man who thinks black is the new black. Has he never heard of color?”

The men smiled. 

“Only if it comes with a stole,” Marcus quipped drolly. He became thoughtful. “You have no idea how you got back to the motel. To your room?”

Mouse shook her head. “Flying one minute and grounded the next.”

“Someone must have found you,” Tomas reasoned. “But then why not flag down one of the officers or EMTs to help you? Why just return you to your motel room? I presume you had your room key on you?”

Another shake of the head. “Left it in the truck. Thought it best in case I got caught. Not that it would have mattered. Bennett and his minions would have worked out where I was staying regardless.”

“You’ve seen these minions?” Marcus queried.

“No.” Mouse hadn’t realized it till now. She just assumed they were around since she had taken two out back in Seattle before they had gotten to him, and before she found Marcus and Tomas. “But they must be around somewhere. They are not going to let someone as powerful as him galivant on his own.”

Tomas sighed. “He is as powerful as we feared.”

“We haven’t seen anything yet,” she warned. “Parlor tricks. That’s all it took to get us here. He wanted us here, but I can’t fathom why. I hope you don't have plans for a romantic getaway in the foreseeable future.”

“Guess we can cancel our reservation at that bed and breakfast in Lancaster,” Tomas joked.

Marcus pointed at Mouse. “You owe us. I had my heart set on the full Amish experience. Carriage rides. Breakfast buffets. Outlet shopping. Shoo-fly pie.”

“How about I just shove you in an outhouse and we call it even?” she retorted, eyes narrowed.

“Speaking of…” he slid out of the booth. “Nature calls.”

Making his way to the bathroom, Marcus let another patron exit before he entered. The unoccupied room had three stalls and five urinals. He opted for a urinal to take care of business. When he had finished, he went to the one of two sinks and washed his hands.

Bent over, he splashed some cold water on his face. Mouse’s tale had affected him more than he would have liked. Bennett was targeting her. Marcus could feel it. Most likely, he wanted to unnerve her enough so she’d end up in a place like St. Aquinas. Like hell would he ever let her end up there. What’s more, he knew for a fact she’d put a bullet in her head before she would ever be admitted.

He stood up, reaching for a paper towel to pull out from a nearby machine. The rough sheet ran over his equally rough face and hands. _Perhaps if we survive this, I could book a couples’ spa weekend for me and Tomas._

Opening his eyes, Marcus was met with an unexpected sight. Devon Bennett stood behind him mouthing the older man’s name. The dark blond spun away from the mirror to find himself alone in the room. He turned back to find this still to be true.

His hands gripped the sides of the sink so tightly he expected the porcelain to crack under his strength. Bowing his head, he took a moment to breathe. Then, he prayed.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

When he looked up at his reflection, he didn’t see only fear in his cool blue eyes.

He also saw hope.

  
  
  
  


The evening air was crisp and still, perfect for a stroll. As storefronts were passed, the only lit ones belonged to small eateries and takeaway joints. Just as you would expect on a Sunday evening. People occasionally smiled and the greeting was returned without fail. The sidewalk lamps cast a warm glow over the streetscape. The lighting gave it all a charming feel, which was no doubt the point.

Tomas kept pace with Marcus, whose long strides always resulted in two of his boyfriend’s. When the older man had emerged from the men’s room, he knew something had happened. Despite his normal, cheeky demeanor, Marcus seemed off. His first thought was that he had experienced a medical episode, but dismissed it.

_Had Mouse noticed anything?_ Possibly. If she had, she kept it to herself. He wished he had thought to pull her aside. Although, how exactly he would have accomplished that eluded him. She had covered the bill while Marcus had been in the bathroom. When he came back, they had left the diner.

She had offered them a lift to the SUV, but Marcus had declined, preferring to walk. Tomas had liked the idea and that was that. Even if he had talked to her, there was no guarantee she would be forthcoming. Mouse didn’t like getting in the middle of personal matters. If it was life and death or something equally cataclysmic, she would be right there. 

In the end, Tomas decided it was best he hadn’t approached her. This was between him and Marcus. They had agreed to full transparency in their relationship. Now that it was back on solid ground after Marcus’ brush with permanent death, he wasn’t going to screw it up by talking about him behind his back.

“What happened in the bathroom?” 

Marcus didn’t break his stride, but it was clear Tomas had hit a nerve. “It was nothing.”

Taking his hand, Tomas continued to push. “What was? And don’t think we are not going to talk about you not sleeping.”

The right corner of Marcus’ mouth quirked. It proved to Tomas his partner was hearing him.

“I had a moment,” the dark blonde confessed. “Brain playing tricks is all. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”

“But that is just it, isn’t it? You’re not sleeping. Instead, you are doing Internet searches on dead calves.” Tomas couldn’t help the sliver of annoyance that entered his voice.

They were approaching the same beer garden they had visited that afternoon. 

“Shall we get a drink and talk?” Tomas offered.

“Nah.” Marcus shook his head. “I feel like walking.” He cast a side glance at the man he loved. “Don’t worry. I can walk and talk. Just don’t ask me to chew gum, too.”

Tomas broke out into a smile despite himself. “I’m impressed you know how to walk and talk at the same time. I wouldn’t dare press my luck with a stick of gum.”

Marcus brought their linked hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of Tomas’. It was the most public display of affection he had ever shown since they had been together. Although, some would argue the nape touches he was so fond of — and was not afraid to give regardless of location or audience — were much more intimate.

He loved touching Tomas in the simplest of ways. A graze of the hand here; a rest of the forehead there. It was all erotic and euphoric for him. If he were a betting man (and he’s not saying he wasn’t), he would wage good money Tomas felt the same.

“Tell me what happened in the bathroom.” There was only one other man Tomas could think of who was more stubborn than him. Three guesses who that would be and the first two didn’t count.

A deep breath of cool air was sucked into Marcus’ lungs. Now some time had passed, he wasn’t so sure if what he had seen had been real. “I took a piss. Washed my hands. Splashed some water on my face and thought I saw something in the mirror.” He shrugged. “Dunno. Probably just lack of sleep.”

Both avenues lay before him and Tomas wasn’t sure which to tackle first. He opted for the latter. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t sleeping? I can help you.”

Marcus stopped, turning to face him. “How? By staying up with me? Fat lot of good that will do us.” 

“By being a sounding board. Something’s bothering you. If it’s not that, then….” The words died in his throat. Tomas couldn’t bear to say them aloud.

“I came back wrong,” Marcus finished for him, cutting straight to the bone.

“No.” Tomas answered definitively. “You experienced something transcendent. It changed you, yes. How could it not? But you, querido,” he took his boyfriend’s face in his hands, “did not come back wrong. You just ... came back.”

“What if….” Marcus’ voice caught and his eyes were wet. “What if I’m broken? What if He sent me back not because my work wasn’t done or my time _with you_ hadn’t finished, but because something is wrong with me? A glitch in the system.”

“Where is this coming from? Baby, no. You know why you came back. We are not done in any way. He told you that.” 

It scared Tomas to hear the insecurity infect his lion like this. This was the years of abuse, of being told he wasn’t good enough and worse, flaring up like a specter that hadn’t been truly exorcised.

Marcus nodded. “He did. You’re right.” He blinked and took a few more deep breaths. “Christ. Where the bloody hell did that come from?”

“Are you with me, love?” Tomas carded his fingers through the other man’s short hair, while one hand remained on his cheek.

“Always, darling.” He nuzzled the hand on his cheek. “Till you realize what a mistake you made hooking up with a traumatized old wreck like me.”

“Well, that is never going to happen. See, I have a thing for traumatized wrecks. Could even call it a kink.”

“You forgot ‘old.’”

Tomas leaned in until their lips were just an inch apart. “No, I didn’t.”

Taking the bait, Marcus took his lover’s mouth gently. Tomas returned the kiss with more fervor, ensuring he got a taste of his boyfriend. They made out for a minute, but it was enough to right Marcus.

“Take me home,” he urged Tomas.

The younger man pulled back to properly see the person in front of him. “You’re going to let me drive? Maybe you _are_ broken.”

“Maybe you’d like a right spanking.”

“That’s my lion.” Tomas smiled and stole another kiss. He tugged on Marcus as their hands once more fit together, fingers interlacing. “Let’s go. I think a nice bath will be the thing to get you to relax enough to sleep. Also, we have brandy in the room.”

“So that’s what you picked up at the liquor store this morning while I popped in at the grocer’s,” Marcus replied as they started walking again. “Beer not enough for you anymore?”

“I heard it’s good for relaxing your mind before bed,” Tomas admitted. He shrugged when his partner looked at him. “I wasn’t sure why I bought it at the time. Now I do.”

“You just want to soak me and liquor me up so you can have your wicked way with me, you saucy minx.” The dark blond waggled his eyebrows as he grinned.

“We both know I need to do none of that. You’re not as innocent as you think you are,” Tomas said with a laugh. He pulled Marcus into the parking lot and headed for the SUV.

“I was till I met you. You corrupted me.”

Tomas pushed Marcus against the grill of their vehicle. “Play your cards right and I’ll do it again tonight.”

“ _Yes, please._ ” He captured Tomas’ mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss before pushing him off. Pulling the keyless remote out of his jacket pocket, he hit the button to unlock the doors before pressing it into his boyfriend’s waiting hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Tomas woke up surprisingly early after the slightly debaucherous night he shared with Marcus. Perhaps decadent was a better word. When they had returned to the motel room, which was located three doors down from where Mouse was staying, Tomas had run a bath for his boyfriend.

He had been determined to ensure Marcus enjoyed a good night’s sleep. The man deserved it after what he had been through. It broke Tomas’ heart that Marcus was suffering and pissed him off that he hadn’t wanted to bother him with it. Thinking about it now made the corner of his mouth quirk. They were as stubborn as each other.

After a long soak together, where they had talked and touched as Marcus had laid with his back against Tomas’ chest, they had made their way to the bed. There, they had claimed each other until they were spent. 

It had started with Marcus on all fours with his ass in the air. He had told Tomas in the tub he wanted to be fucked before he made love to his boyfriend. Tomas had told him he could have whatever he wanted and he had meant it. This wasn’t an obligation, but a privilege. The younger man had prepared his lover thoroughly before filling him with his cock. 

Sex for them leaned toward softer and intimate, but every now and again they liked it a bit rough. A need would be awakened that usually had to do with the type of day they had or where they were emotionally. No judgement was passed. No explanation was required. They understood each other.

After the first round and a small break for them to regroup, Tomas had rolled onto his back and spread his legs. A sexy smile played on his lips as Marcus slid between them. He loved being the bottom for his gorgeous, amazing boyfriend. He also loved blowing him, but that was neither here nor there.

Marcus had taken his time with Tomas, exploring every inch of him until his lover begged for him to take him. When those pleas had switched from English to Spanish, the dark blond knew the time had come. He had plowed the younger man as his mouth remained attached to that olive skin and his free hand stroked his aching cock. Both had come hard with Marcus spilling into Tomas, whose release hit his own stomach.

Watching the older man lick up every drop of cum on his stomach — also a bit on his chest — Tomas had nearly orgasmed again. Once they had recovered, he got up and poured two brandies. They sat side by side on the bed enjoying their nightcaps. When they were under the covers a short time later, Marcus had curled up next to Tomas and promptly passed out.

Now, Tomas watched his sleeping lover, running a finger along Marcus’ hairline. A content smile in place as the other man didn’t react. It was around seven in the morning. To his surprise, his body was humming with energy. He didn’t understand how this was even possible. So, he decided to do the only thing he could think of — go for a run.

It was the perfect opportunity. Leaving Marcus was never something he enjoyed, but they couldn’t be joined at the hip. He would leave him a note, though he hoped Marcus never saw it. Tomas wanted nothing more than for his partner to sleep through his absence.

When he came back ninety minutes later, Marcus was still out and the note remained propped against the pillow on Tomas’ side of the bed. The dark haired man crumbled up the message and tossed it in the trash can. He needed a shower, but opted to do one thing first.

Pulling his phone out of the armband he wore while running, Tomas sent Mouse a text.

_“Let me know when you’re up. I’ll bring coffee and items from the spread in the lobby.”_

He tossed the phone on the bed before stripping out of his muscle tank, shorts and underwear. When he returned fifteen minutes later fresh from the shower with nothing but a white cotton towel wrapped around his waist, Marcus was still sleeping and Mouse had replied.

_“I’m up. So where’s my damn coffee and items?”_

Tomas chuckled. _“Coming, senorita. Ten minutes.”_

The reply was swift. _“Make it five.”_

Seven minutes later, he knocked on her door.

  
  
  
  


“I can’t believe I fell for the room service ruse,” Mouse groused. “Oldest damn trick in the book. I’m obviously still recovering from my mishap.”

She and Tomas were in the faded green pickup truck on their way to the scene of the crime. As Mouse drove, she wished they were headed anywhere else. Why Tomas wanted to visit the fairgrounds and the adjacent barn was obvious. He wanted to see if he could get a vision, which could offer a clue regarding Bennett’s plan. 

Why it had to be her and not Marcus was less clear.

“You could have just waited till he woke up and went with him,” she chided. “I don’t need to be there. I don’t _want_ to be there.”

“I know.” Tomas turned his head to look at her. His eyes pulled to the still raw rope burn on her neck. “But I don’t know when Marcus is going to wake up. I wanted to go while the iron was somewhat hot. If necessary, I’ll take him there later. 

“Thank you for doing this, Mouse. You’re a good friend.”

Mouse snorted. “More like I’m a glutton for punishment. I don’t remember you being this pushy when we were working together.”

He grinned. “I was still gathering my bearings. Not to mention grieving. Now that I’m healed and comfortable with you, I’m free to be my usual charming self.”

She burst out laughing. “Jesus, you sound like him. I think I’m appreciating the version of you I got. Took orders and didn’t talk back.”

“That didn’t last as long as you like to think,” he countered.

“No, it did not,” she admitted. “In a weird way, I’m glad it’s just the two of us. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

Tomas caught the quick glance she gave him before turning her attention back to the road ahead. His gaze shifted so he also was looking out the windshield. “Agreed.”

“You don’t miss me. You have Marcus back. It’s all you ever wanted.”

Her candidness took him by surprise. “Just because I have Marcus back doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.”

A few feet ahead was the sign indicating the entrance to the fairgrounds was on the left. “We’re here.”

The pickup came to a stop in the empty lot. Police caution tape went around a large swath of the perimeter, held up by posts that were added just for the occasion.

They exited the truck and walked in silence, ducking under the yellow tape. The place was deserted. No officers or other law enforcement agents had been assigned to patrol the location.

“From what I was able to dig up online,” Mouse told him, “the cops have nothing. The fire is still under investigation. I managed to make friends last night with someone in arson. She said it was unlikely that was the cause and will more than likely be ruled out. 

“It will still be a few days before a decision is made. But between what evidence they do have and eyewitness reports, it seems like it’s going to be listed as an act of God. Gotta love the irony.”

Tomas rolled his eyes. He did not love the irony. Thinking of all those people who were here the other night when the fire broke out made bile rise in his throat. Seeking a distraction, he latched onto something else Mouse had said.

“You didn’t go back to the motel after the diner?”

She shot him a look. “No. I didn’t feel like being cooped up either, so I went to this beer garden about a couple miles from the Red Apple. I was looking for a bar, but it seemed nice and the idea of sitting outside with a drink sounded good.”

“Did anything other than shop talk happen?”

“What are we girlfriends now?” There was no bite in the accusation. She shrugged. “We enjoyed a couple drinks and the company. Then, we went our separate ways.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It didn’t suck.”

The pair continued meandering around the fairway. All the structures housing the games and food stood in ruins, along with the destroyed rides. It lent a haunted atmosphere that affected their moods. 

A soundtrack of ebullient and happy folks hung in the air. Tomas couldn’t be sure if only he could hear it or not. His gift had evolved since his Chicago days. What started as him entering an event from Marcus’ past had become much more immersive or, on the contrary, abstract. He only knew that whatever he was shown was presented to him for a reason. 

“So much life here that night,” he commented after the milky white disappeared from his eyes. It never occurred to him he had stopped moving.

“What did you see?” Mouse asked.

He had seen ghosts from a happier time and watched as it all turned into terror. Everything was in echo, nothing concrete. It was for the best. Seeing the inferno and its destruction unfold like this was enough. He didn’t need it in Technicolor.

“Memories. This place may need an exorcism of its own.”

Mouse put a hand on his shoulder blade. “Come on. The barn is this way.”

Leaving behind the fairgrounds and its trauma, Tomas braced himself for the potential horrors that awaited him in the place where his friend nearly died.

  
  
  
  


As they made their way across the barren field to the freestanding barn, Mouse recalled the dread that had pooled in the pit of her stomach the night before last while making the same trek. Now, it was merely unease that nestled deep within her. This, she was used to as it was what had been with her since she crossed the city limits. 

She glanced at Tomas, who stalked toward the harmless structure. In daylight, it seemed like any other barn. Most likely because it was. The building was hardly haunted. You can’t blame a construct of wood and paint for the beast that performed the dastardly deeds within it. It’s not as if the barn gave its blessing for her to be nearly killed.

That was another thing that bothered Mouse. How the hell did she get home the other night? She still had no recollection of getting from here to the motel. Did someone save her? Did she magically teleport herself? Was it an act of God? She considered herself one of his most loyal servants. If He can talk to Marcus and give Tomas his gift of sight, removing her from the hangman’s noose was no big deal.

Right?

When they reached the spot where she first had felt ill, Mouse stopped. It was a few steps before Tomas realized she was no longer by his side.

He walked back to her; concern etched in his features. “Mouse? What is it? Are you okay?”

An affirmative nod was given as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her green Army jacket warmed her against the chill that suddenly ran down her spine. “This was where I had the premonition. I mean, not exactly a premonition. But a warning of what was to come.”

Tomas cast his gaze down to the hard-packed earth with patchy grass, over to the red barn with its peeling paint and cracked white trim, and back to Mouse. “You said you fell to your knees, that you couldn’t breathe and your vision began to swim.”

His eyebrows went north as he waited for her to confirm. When she did, he continued, “Who do you think sent you this warning? Did you know at the time, it was a warning or not till you got to the barn?”

“No idea. God is as good a guess as any. Not till the barn,” she responded to his questions in order. “I thought I had just breathed in too much smoke. The symptoms were the same. I just worked out how we’re stronger together when it hit me. By then, it was too late.”

“And you have no idea how you got back to the motel that night,” he checked.

She shook her head. “I keep racking my brain, but I still get snake eyes.”

A quizzical expression appeared as he tilted his head. “What do a snake’s eyes have to do with this?”

There were times when she forgot Tomas wasn’t as fluent in English as he let on. “Snake eyes is a gambling term for coming up empty.”

He nodded, comprehending. “I do remember hearing the term, but not enough for it to sink in.”

“It’s fine. Are you getting anything out here or should we continue the ghost tour?”

“We can continue,” he said with a reassuring smile.

Inside the barn, his senses were assaulted as soon as he crossed the threshold. Flashes of Mouse being strung up. Of someone else having suffered the same fate. Bennett by her side watching as she was hoisted into the air. Tomas could hear him whispering, “Gotcha.” The other person fighting as the noose became tighter around his neck. His legs kicking and his fingers clawing at the rope.

The sound of the man’s neck cracking slithered into his head, echoing in his brain. The reverb was deafening.

Tomas put his hands to his ears, wincing at the noise. Then, he heard something else. A song. Someone singing. 

_“A-B-C. Easy as 1-2-3.”_

He knew that song but, as he was disoriented in the moment, there was no way of placing it. In the far distance, he could hear someone calling his name. Gradually, the voice came closer until he could make out it was Mouse.

“Tomas!”

His vision and hearing cleared. He was back in the present. Surprisingly, he was still on his feet. Barely. He swayed, feeling Mouse steady him. Tomas closed his eyes for a moment. When he stopped feeling like a buoy on choppy waters, he opened them. Much better.

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay? What happened? What did you see?” 

The fear in her voice was unmistakable. So was the curiosity. Tomas honestly couldn’t tell which was dominant. He suspected it was the latter. God, he missed Marcus right now. Also, he was glad he wasn’t alone.

She took his slow reaction to her questions as a sign they should get out of the derelict barn. “Come on. Let’s get you some air.”

No sooner had they stepped outside, they heard the racking of a shotgun. Slowly, the pair turned to their right only to be met by a black man in his early forties with his weapon at the ready.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on this property?” His voice was calm yet commanding.

“I was attacked here last night,” Mouse explained. “My friend and I came back as a way of helping me deal with the trauma. It’s something a therapist suggested.”

The man lowered the shotgun. “It _is_ you. I thought so by the burn mark on your neck.”

This got the duo’s attention.

“You saw her,” Tomas pointed at Mouse, “inside that barn last night?”

“It was you who saved me,” she said in awe.

“No ma’am.” The man rested his gun on his left shoulder. He wore a caramel canvas jacket, medium-wash jeans and boots. “But I did offer to give you and the other man a ride into town once you were conscious.”

Mouse stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. Questions flooded her brain. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“What is your name, sir?” Tomas asked politely.

“John Mitchum.” He stuck out a hand, which was accepted by them both as they made introductions. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. The other guy said he had found you unconscious up there and only just barely got to you in time. I showed up while he was administering CPR. Neither one of us was sure you were gonna come back. Then, you did.”

“Who’s this other man you keep mentioning?” Mouse’s brain kicked back into gear.

“Black man. Had an accent I couldn’t place. I couldn’t make out if you were friends or not, but he was rather concerned about you. Guess I can’t blame him. If I had found you up there in the rafters instead of him, I’d definitely be concerned.”

John cast an appraising gaze over Mouse. “You look better than the last time I saw you,” he observed objectively. “You’re okay otherwise?”

She smiled appreciatively. “Yes, thank you. For your concern and for your assistance the other night.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about the man who saved my friend?” Tomas asked. The more information John could share, the sooner they could solve at least one mystery.

“He was religious.” John looked at Mouse. “Kept getting you to pray with him.”

“Did I?” It sounded vaguely familiar. Or was she just willing it to be so in order to move on?

He gave a short nod. “You did. You kept threatening to pass out on us again, but by the time we got you back to your truck, you were keeping up with him word for word. Suppose the Lord had your back that night.”

“How did he know where she had parked?” Tomas queried.

Their new friend pointed at Mouse. “She told us. We loaded her into the passenger seat and the other man took the driver’s seat. I asked if he wanted me to follow and offered to give him a lift from wherever he was taking you.

“That’s when it dawned on him he didn’t know where you were from. You reached into the glove compartment and held up the motel key. I gave him directions as you were a bit out of it still. You both thanked me and that was the last I saw of either of you till now.”

Mouse and Tomas let the information sink in before reacting. It was a lot to absorb, but at least now a huge chunk of the puzzle had been filled. All that was missing was the identity of her hero.

“Thank you, Mr. Mitchum. You’ve been such a help,” Mouse told him.

“Yes. We appreciate your assistance … then and now,” Tomas added.

John gave another nod. “My pleasure. Can I ask one question, ma’am?”

“I didn’t try to kill myself. I _was_ attacked.”

He shook his head. “No, I heard you the first time and I believe you. There’s no way you could have gotten up there all by yourself. Actually, I was wondering if I could buy you a cup of coffee or maybe a beer. As caretaker of this property, I feel bad for what happened.”

She smiled shyly. It wasn’t everyday someone got this reaction from her. Mouse couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken her off guard in such a lovely way. “That would be nice.”

The gentleman with the shotgun put the weapon against the barn and pulled out his wallet from the left back pocket of his jeans. He plucked a business card from inside, handing it to her. “That has my contact info. I won’t take offense if I don’t hear from you.”

Glancing at the card, which read _John Mitchum, ranch foreman_ , she told him, “If you don’t, it’s not personal. We have some business to deal with in town. It tends to be rather time-consuming. I never knew ranch foremen had business cards.”

John chuckled low and deep. “My boss and I attend an auction/convention once a year. He had those printed up for me. It’s come in handy, believe it or not.”

“So I see,” she teased.

“Well, I’ll let you two get back to it. Whatever ‘it’ is. Nice to have met you…”

“Mouse.”

“Tomas.” He shook John’s hand once more.

“Mouse and Tomas. You both take care.” John’s glance lingered on Mouse a second longer. Then, he reached for the shotgun and turned back the way he came.

As they walked back to the truck, Mouse told Tomas, “Not a word.”

“I think it’s great you’re making friends,” he assured her. “You don’t get out much.”

“Fuck off.” She punched him hard in the shoulder, grinning at the knowledge it would leave a mark.


	4. Chapter 4

Mouse dropped Tomas off at the motel and went to get herself a proper breakfast. The fruit and croissant had not been enough to nourish her after the morning they had experienced. She tried to get Tomas to join her, even offering to rouse Marcus and drag his sleepy ass with them, but he refused.

While food sounded good, being alone with Marcus sounded better. On their way back to the truck, it had occurred to Tomas that John Mitchell had never mentioned the police, fire department and emergency rescue service when he told of escorting Mouse and the mystery man to the truck the other night. 

“Wouldn’t this place have been swarming with authorities?” Tomas posited. “Someone would have stopped the three of you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a group had gone undetected by a massive gathering of law enforcement. A lot of shit was going on that night.” Mouse paused. “You would think security would have been tight considering.”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe he didn’t mention it because there was nothing _to_ mention,” she hypothesized. “Maybe someone cleared the way.”

Tomas stopped. “God’s running crowd control now?”

Mouse put her hands on her hips as she faced him. “Why not? It tracks with what I said earlier about not taking us off the board.”

Was it really that simple? He didn’t have an answer then and he still didn’t have one fifteen minutes later when they parted ways. Lost in his head as he entered the motel room, Tomas jumped out of his skin when Marcus greeted him.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“¡Dios mío!” Tomas exclaimed, heart hammering in his chest.

The smile on Marcus’ face froze before gradually fading from existence. He was stretched out on the other queen-sized bed, sketchpad in hand. It had been a gift from Tomas, who had noticed the Bible his partner had been using was out of space.

The older man tossed his art supplies onto the bed as Tomas went to take off his jacket. Instead, he sat down at the foot of the bed. Marcus wrapped his arms around Tomas, hugging him from behind and nuzzling his neck.

“I got your note. What happened on your barn adventure? Your heart is pounding, luv.”

Tomas relaxed into his boyfriend’s comforting touch. “That’s what happens when you scare the crap out of me.”

“Thought I’d still be asleep?” Marcus joked.

“I had hoped not,” Tomas admitted. “But if you had, I would have crawled right back in next to you.”

Staying just as he was, though part of him wanted to be facing Tomas for this conversation, Marcus asked again, “What happened? Tell me everything.”

The younger man did as he was told and relayed the morning’s events to his partner. He felt Marcus’ hold tighten when he got to the part with his visions. A sound never came from the other man, who listened to every word Tomas spoke. When he had finished, he took one of Marcus’ hands to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Being out there with Mouse reminded me of when it was just her and I, after you left. It was good working alongside her again, but I missed you so much, querido. Especially after each vision. I longed for you to magically appear by my side. It’s nice to be home.”

Marcus snorted, casting his gaze around the room. “You consider this place home? I suppose it is as much as any motel we stay at.”

A chuckle bubbled out of Tomas as he looked up at his boyfriend. “No. You, Marcus. You are my home.”

The dark blond smiled down upon his love. “So are you, Tomas. The only home I’ve ever known.”

Their lips met in a soft kiss that Marcus deepened as he staked his claim. The younger man moaned into his lover’s mouth, his tongue sweeping the inside of the chasm while Marcus’s tongue did the same inside Tomas’.

A familiar tune came to life inside the dark-haired man’s brain. The chorus played on a loop loudly, eventually driving Tomas to distraction. He broke off the kiss. His semi-hard erection slowly lost its luster. 

This time, Marcus scooted to his boyfriend’s side. “Tomas, what is it?”

He shook his head, which was currently in his hands. “It’s nothing. Just a song that won’t stop playing in my head.”

“The one from your vision at the barn?” 

It disconcerted Marcus that Tomas’ visions took on enough forms they had created their own variety pack. The fact that a song had affected him this much while working a case was not new. There were times even now when Marcus couldn’t get Patsy Cline’s “Walkin’ After Midnight” out of his head. Damn bloody earworm.

Tomas nodded, then sat up. “I need a distraction. How did you sleep? You were still out when I went for a run. I left you a note, which I tossed when I got back. You found the second one, I see.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Marcus grinned. “I did. You bloody wore me out last night with your sex and brandy. What can we do to make you join me again in the land of the dead tonight?”

When he waggled his eyebrows, Tomas burst out laughing. “I’m game for round two, if you are. Trust me. I was just as surprised as you when I woke up early. My body was just … _buzzing._ The only thing I could think of to burn off the excess energy was to go running.”

He leaned in toward Marcus. “If I hadn’t been hellbent on making sure you got a good night’s sleep, I would have woken you up so we could wear me out together.”

His mouth found his partner’s. They kissed lazily for a few long moments.

“Another time,” Marcus promised against those full lips he always lost himself to no matter what.

“Count on it,” Tomas replied before capturing that tasty mouth again. He loved how their facial hair rubbed together when they kissed. It was so damn hot.

“Will you take that bloody jacket off?” Marcus hissed, but there was no heat in his tone. He helped Tomas remove it and then tossed it on the floor. 

“Can we not?” The request took him by surprise, but what Tomas wanted more than anything was to be in Marcus’ arms. “Will you hold me?”

Marcus hadn’t expected Tomas to put the brakes on their mutual passion, but he wasn’t caught wholly unaware. His cub had been through a lot this morning. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

They moved back to their bed. Tomas removed his boots and socks, then opted to strip down to his boxer briefs and nothing else. Marcus followed his cue and did the same. Crawling into bed simultaneously on either side, Tomas went straight into Marcus’ open arms. He nestled against his man’s chest, breathing a sigh of contentment.

A comfortable silence filled the air. Marcus petted his boy’s head, smoothing his black curls and pressing his lips to the crown every so often. Eventually, it occurred to Tomas to ask his lover what time he had woken up. The Jackson 5 had softened to white noise in the back of his brain.

“One twenty-three,” Marcus told him. “It made me laugh. I even made a stupid ‘Easy as A-B-C’ joke to myself when I saw it.”

Tomas stilled in his boyfriend’s loving embrace. “What are the odds?” he asked rhetorically to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Algiers, Algeria — Seven years ago**

The summer heat was nothing to be trifled with as Marcus was finding out. Sweat dripped off his skin while the sun burned bright above, baking the city to a crisp. He calmly pulled a nectarine from a small bag he collected at the market and bit into it. Its sweet juices ran down his throat as he chewed the fruit, allowing him to soak in every drop of its flavor.

He was standing outside the Notre-Dame d’Afrique. The whitewashed cathedral faced the Mediterranean with each of its four facades featuring a band of tiles and at the top of each, a pinnacle sat mounted on small columns. 

The bag of fruit placed on the ground next to his feet, he enjoyed the late morning respite as passersby went to and fro. Some threw him a smile, which he happily returned. Most went about their business. This was what he enjoyed about being in a city: people watching.

_We’re a curious folk. No two of us alike. Sure, we have things in common, but to each their own. Only a lucky few of us find the other half of our soul. To feel complete must be divine._

Marcus had no illusions of ever being in love. There was no way another human being could ever find him lovable. He made his peace with this ages ago. His heart belonged to God anyway. No man or woman could ever make him happier than he was as a servant of the Lord.

Not like he would meet the love of his life in his line of work anyway. He was an exorcist and priest in that order. What were the odds of finding romance while casting out a demon? The poor sod would have to be delivered to his doorstep and even then, he would probably just tell him to piss off back from whence he came.

“Father Marcus Keane?”

He squinted to get a gander at to whom the voice belonged. A young, black male with an accent that was decidedly not local and dressed as a man with limited stature in the Church stood next to him. Marcus popped the rest of the nectarine into his mouth, chewing while he took in his new friend.

The man was in his late twenties — Marcus put at him twenty-eight, if he had to guess — had excellent posture and wore a slightly sour expression. They would clash like oil and water, he surmised. Grinning, he swallowed the last of the nectarine. _This was going to be fun._

“Father Devon Bennett. You’re away from home.”

“As are you.”

Neither offered their hand to shake, which made Marcus like him a bit more. “I’m an exorcist, Bennett. The world is my home.” He looked back at the church. “Suppose you want to take a peek?”

Bennett gave him a cursory nod. “Very much. It’s why I suggested we meet here. I’ve never been to Algiers and may not get another opportunity.”

Marcus bent down to grab his bag of fruit, rolling it down so it would fit more comfortably in his canvas messenger bag. He had been eyeing a gorgeous black leather one, but funds were a bit thin at the moment. His current bag had been with him for the past ten years. No doubt it would survive a few more.

“You’re not in a cleric's uniform.” Bennett’s observation sounded more like an accusation, which was his intention.

“Wearing black in this heat? Are you mad?” Marcus paused, but kept walking up the path that led to Notre-Dame d’Afrique. “You may well be wanting to go into this line of work.”

“I’ve been with the Church since I was a teenager.”

“Which was when? A couple years ago?” the older man retorted.

“Try ten. Math is obviously not your strong suit.”

“And humor isn’t yours. Guess we’re even.”

The young cleric cast his companion a side glance. “You were brought in when you were still a kid. I don’t see a difference.”

Marcus stopped to face Bennett, stepping into his personal space. There was maybe an inch between them. “ _I_ was recruited, while _you_ were saved. _That’s_ the difference, Father Bennett.”

“I was ripped from my homeland and from a most beloved sister. I don’t view that as being saved, Father Keane.” Bennett held the other man’s steely gaze, not withering beneath it.

The dark blond considered him for a long moment before taking two steps back. “No, you wouldn’t.” He pointed at the cathedral behind him. “But they do and that’s all that matters.”

Now, it was Bennett’s turn to take in Marcus. He understood what the older man meant. The Church was everything … or at least it should be. To go against them in any fashion would be at his own peril. He had never thought of the Catholic Church in those terms before but, in just a few moments with this priest, his perspective had been skewed.

That was when Devon Bennett knew Marcus Keane would be a perpetual thorn in his side for as long as he knew him.

“Well, now that we have that settled, why don’t we go inside and pay our respects?” 


	6. Chapter 6

The Red Apple Diner was where Mouse found herself after disposing of Tomas on Marcus’ doorstep. She had wanted to try the apple cinnamon pancakes last night at dinner, but knew it would be too much for her stomach. Her breakfast for dinner menu surprisingly had given her no discomfort and therefore she had no regrets.

Now was a completely different story. She was starving and those pancakes were calling her name. However, she reluctantly took a pass on ordering a plate of sausages. As she reasoned, she was hungry, not suicidal. No point in pissing off her digestive system so soon. Especially after the bacon and scrapple last night.

Sitting at the counter, she enjoyed her cup of tea with lemon. Since the pancakes were heavy enough, coffee didn’t seem wise though she yearned for the jolt of caffeine. The cup Tomas had brought her earlier hadn’t sat well after a few sips. When she woke up that morning, she had felt infinitely better. Her neck wasn’t as sore and a couple ibuprofen had brought down the slight swelling and alleviated the stiffness. She had been hungry last night so she ignored the irritation. Alcohol also helped. Another reason she played it safer now.

The bruises were another matter, but it would be a few days at the earliest before they began to fade. No big deal. She had dealt with worse.

“You are an enigma, Mouse. I string you up; watch the life leave your body; and two days later, here you are drinking tea as if nothing happened.”

Bennett ran a finger over the rope burn on her neck. “How the hell did you get free? There was no one else around. That foreman should have found you hanging.”

Mouse remained mum. She sipped her tea, waiting patiently for her meal. 

“You don’t know.” He hadn’t expected this. “Or maybe you simply don’t remember.” Leaning in, he whispered, “I can help with that.”

It was the tickling of his tongue at the entrance of her ear, just before it slid inside, that broke her resolve. She grabbed the steak knife off the plate next to her and brought it to his throat when she heard a different voice speak.

“Whoa, Mouse. Easy now.”

She blinked and he was gone, if he had even been there at all. In his place on the stool next to her was Lara Miller, the arson investigator she had gotten to know at the beer garden last night. And had gotten to know even better in her motel room later.

The dark-haired woman instantly lowered her weapon and quickly returned it to the counter with a shaky smile and an even shakier, “Sorry.”

“You okay?” Lara asked sincerely when Mouse met her gaze. “You want to talk?”

Just then, her meal arrived; the scent of apples and cinnamon made her forget everything else. 

“I want to eat.” She sunk her knife and fork into the short stack, whose circumference took up most of the plate. “You ordering?”

Lara decided on a mushroom and spinach omelet with a side order of bacon. “It’s a balancing act,” she grinned, when Mouse glanced at her.

The aroma of her friend’s coffee gave Mouse a contact high. It smelled amazing and helped wake her up a bit more.

“So you thought I was the asshole who strung you up?” Lara asked as she sipped her beverage; steam rising as she brought the mug to her lips.

Mouse had agreed to a quid pro quo in exchange for information on the carnival fire. She told the ginger about her experience from that night after Lara had inquired how those bruises came about. 

The investigator admitted she had an ex years ago who had tried to choke her out once. When Mouse asked what had happened, Lara had told her, “I went into therapy, started krav maga and made sure he never came near me again.”

This was when Mouse knew she liked Lara. When the other woman kissed her in the parking lot, she had an even better idea of just how much she liked her.

Waiting until she swallowed the bite of pancakes she had just inserted into her mouth, Mouse replied, “Yep.”

Lara dug into her freshly arrived meal. She took a bite of her omelet and a strip of bacon. “What did he want?”

The exorcist appreciated how her friend didn’t push her to expand on her feelings. Marcus was the same. Most of the people she connected with were damaged in some way. Even Tomas had his demons and that, if she was honest with herself, broke her heart. It was why she had constantly pushed him to be stronger — not just mentally but emotionally — when they had been on the road together.

“To know how I escaped his clutches.” Mouse took some more of her tea now it had cooled. It felt wonderful as it went down her throat.

“Was it with a knife?” Lara queried archly.

“No.”

They silently continued enjoying their breakfast for a few minutes.

“I heard you met John Mitchum earlier.”

Mouse put down her silverware and turned her head toward the other woman. “Not to be trusted or am I now a threat?”

Lara choked on her coffee, nearly doing a spit take. She reached for the glass of water that sat to the left of her mug, drinking a quarter of the glass. Once she stopped coughing, she focused on her companion.

“You really don’t make friends easily, do you? He’s a good man and a sweetheart, who has definitely taken an interest in you. Just like I have,” she added, her voice dropping an octave. In a lighter tone, she teased, “I don’t think you need me telling you you are most definitely a threat.”

At that, Mouse laughed. “No, I don’t. But it’s nice to know I can attract the good ones, too.”

“You going to take him up on his offer for a drink?”

The dark brunette shook her head. “What didn’t he tell you?”

She shrugged. “Not much. Who’s your friend you had with you?”

Mouse resumed eating her breakfast.

“No intimate details. Right.” Lara picked up another bacon strip, having finished the first and ripped off a piece.

“It’s safer for you,” Mouse assured her. 

“Work or personal?”

This was a trick question as far as Mouse was concerned as her work _was_ personal. But for this situation, she kept her answer simple. “Work.”

Lara put a hand on Mouse’s thigh. “So, this is allowed, but I can’t ask if your favorite number is sixty-nine.”

There was a twinkle in her eye, but otherwise her face and voice betrayed nothing. “You can ask.”

The investigator’s phone rang. She answered it as Mouse finished her pancakes. Her stomach was full, which made her happy. Lara hung up and made quick work of the remainder of her meal.

“Duty calls?” Mouse asked somewhat rhetorically.

“’Fraid so. Preliminary results are in on the fire.” She signaled for both checks. “It’s gonna be a _long_ day.

“What’s your day like?” Lara inquired while she waited to pay.

“Not sure,” Mouse admitted. “I feel like I should do some exploring after this. Hey. Do you know of any places that have a weird reputation or of any newbies in town who seem odd?”

“Aside from you?” The other woman smiled. “Now that you mention it, the old Roosevelt place over on Maple just got a new tenant. Some of the neighbors had been grumbling about strange noises and keeping odd hours.”

A cold chill fell over Mouse. “Had?”

Their waitress came with both of their bills, which Lara paid for before Mouse could even register what had happened. 

“Yeah, one day the complaints just stopped. Apparently, they made nice with the guy.”

Mouse put a hand on Lara’s arm. “Do you know what this tenant looks like?”

It was obvious her friend had a vested interest in the newcomer and Lara’s instinct told her it was connected to Mouse’s job. “I did hear someone describe him as a black man in his mid-thirties with a possibly European or African accent.”

The grip tightened on her arm considerably. “Mouse, who is he?”

“Dangerous,” she said, hopping off the stool. “Go to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

Reaching for her cash, she realized Lara had already paid for her. “Thanks for breakfast. Next time, it’s on me.”

This time, Lara grabbed her arm. “I’m calling you later and you better answer. Understand?”

Her heart tightened and it made Mouse smile. “Yes, ma’am.” She kissed her lover, enjoying it immensely when Lara kissed her back. 

“My favorite number _is_ sixty-nine,” she said against Lara’s mouth before pulling back and running out of the diner.

  
  
  
  


Marcus sat on the small, white wooden bench in front of the window to the motel room with his sketchpad and charcoal in hand. Tomas was still asleep in bed and his boyfriend had no desire to wake him after the morning he had. He understood why Tomas had wanted to go see what was essentially a crime scene, but he still wished his cub hadn’t gone without him.

Not that Mouse should have been left behind. That’s exactly his point. No one should have been left behind. Marcus wanted to inspect the fairgrounds and the barn himself. Though Tomas had given such a detailed report, he felt like he had been there. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal, after all.

But it _was_ because Tomas had experienced a new type of vision, different from any of those that came before. Mouse hadn’t seen what Tomas had seen, but she had been there instead of Marcus and _that’s_ what stuck in his crawl. That she had been there. Not him. 

He had vowed never to miss another moment in his partner’s life now they were together. Leaving Tomas would always be his one true regret. Marcus had made his peace with it, but forgiven isn’t forgotten. Being forgiven by Tomas was the happiest Marcus had ever been. He was always happy with him, but when he was officially welcomed home by the only person he had ever loved and told those feelings were reciprocated….

A fond smile played on Marcus’ lips at the memory. Now, they were a couple who had each other’s back and loved the other completely. 

So, he would let go of the petty jealousy that slithered around his heart. He would care for Tomas and make sure he was whole. It occurred to Marcus that he should go check on him, when the rumble of Mouse’s truck pulled into a parking spot a few feet away. 

She got out and headed straight for him. He knew she was most likely here for Tomas. “He’s asleep. Needs the recharge.”

Mouse glanced at the shut door before redirecting her gaze to her friend. “I’m here for you, actually. I know where Bennett is living.”

Marcus was on his feet in a flash, the pad and charcoal left on the bench. “Living? He has a house here?”

Nodding, she told him what Lara had relayed to her at the diner. 

“We can’t just go over there, guns blazing,” he counseled. “He’ll smell us coming and we’d be toast.”

“I know. It’s the only thing that’s stopping me.” She paused. “I believe he’s converting the neighbors. Integrating them. It’s the only thing that makes sense about why they would stop complaining. From what I’ve seen of the town, I’m guessing it’s a nice, quiet neighborhood whose residents would prefer to keep it that way.”

“Bloody hell.” Marcus ran a hand through his close-cropped hair, then dragged the hand over his careworn face. He scratched his nascent beard and goatee. “Is there anything special about the house? And while we’re at it, why this town? What makes Preston, Pennsylvania, so damn special?”

This was why Mouse had sought him out. He was the first person to come to mind once she realized heading straight to the Roosevelt house was a suicide mission. Marcus’ inquisitive mind was one of his greatest assets in the field. There was never a question to which he couldn’t find an answer or problem he couldn’t solve. He wasn’t exactly Sherlock Holmes, but he knew how to research till he got the results he wanted.

“Want to hit up the property tax assessor’s office with me?” she asked nonchalantly. “I’m tired of being stuck in an escape room of his making.”

“Wore the first one out, so now you’re getting your money’s worth out of me, eh?” Marcus could see the offer was an olive branch, but he couldn’t resist a bit of teasing.

“What else are you going to do? Sit on your ass drawing….” She looked down at the open sketch pad. “What is that? A building made of flowers?”

He followed her gaze and saw that’s exactly what it looked like. It never occurred to him that he was drawing something in particular. The flowers were just doodles or so he had thought. Cocking his head and squinting, he replied, “I guess.”

“Anyway, Snow White probably won’t awaken until you kiss him properly. Quid pro quo, right?” She shrugged, hands in the pocket of her jacket.

He picked up his supplies and raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Mouse,” he quipped. “I might start to think you missed me.”

“What if I did?”

Marcus stopped to consider her for a moment. “I might admit I missed you, too.”

“It wasn’t the same when you left.”

“Which time?”

“Every time.”

“It was never easy, leaving,” he admitted.

“Then why go?”

“With you, I had reached my limit. Or thought I had,” he told her. “With Tomas, I had red in my ledger, a black mark on my soul. It took God to convince me that, while significant, it wasn’t a dealbreaker. I had a bigger purpose. To protect Tomas. Now, I think it’s more than that. We’ll protect each other, but also our job is so much more crucial that we realize.

“It’s not just about saving souls, Mouse. It’s about saving the people because together we’ll win this fight. We need to be united. I know you think he’s a weapon, but he’s not. He’s a resource.”

“Potato, poh-tah-to. We want the same thing, Marcus,” she assured him. “What you’re not getting is that _we are the weapons._ The tools of the Divine in the House of the Lord will build the world to His specifications. I’m with you. Our tactics may differ, but I’m willing to spare the rod when the situation warrants it. I’m not inflexible. Can you say the same?”

Marcus didn’t know if he could. A voice in his head told him he was capable. A voice that sounded like Andy Kim. Only he wasn’t being judgmental; merely observational.

“Guess we’ll find out.” He ducked inside to change his clothes.

  
  
  
  


Fifteen minutes later, Marcus and Mouse entered the property tax assessor’s office. It was in a county building made of brick that had been built within the past ten years along with a similarly constructed justice center down the street, which housed the county court.

Wyeth County was one of the largest counties in the state and Preston was the county seat. The assessor’s office was on the second floor. A few people milled about, but no one gave the pair a second look as they made their way down the hall. Marcus held open the door, so Mouse could go in first.

A woman in her mid-twenties whose blonde ponytail became a vibrant blue at the tips greeted them cordially. “Hello! How may I help you folks this afternoon?”

“No lunch break?” Marcus asked conversationally. “I half-expected this place to be locked up.”

She giggled. “Not till one for me, but lucky for you.”

Mouse could see what Marcus was doing. His slow grin at the woman made her eyes roll. She wished he would just move it along already. “We need information and we’re in a hurry.”

The grin didn’t fade from Marcus’ lips. Instead, he made Mouse’s outburst part of the plan. “She’s not wrong, but I have to ask … how do you get away with having your hair like that?” He pointed at the indigo hue. “That doesn’t seem standard issue for a county job.”

She shook her head. “It’s not, but I’ve been here for a few years. I came back from vacation a few weeks ago like this and no one batted an eye. I keep it pulled back, so it’s mostly professional.”

He stuck out his hand. “My name is Marcus. What’s yours?”

As Mouse folded her arms over her chest and again rolled her eyes, the blonde behind the desk replied, “Blue Tortorella.”

“Seriously?” The word was out of Mouse’s mouth before she could stop it. Her eyes widened when she heard how rude it sounded even to her.

Blue shrugged and shook her head. “It’s fine,” she assured her. “I’m not ready to use my first name, so I took my middle name instead.”

Marcus had shot Mouse a warning look when he heard her reaction, but softened when returning his attention to his new friend. “It’s perfect. Was the hair a reflection of your name or do you just like the color?”

Her smile returned. “Mostly I just like the color. When I made the connection, it didn’t thrill me. Too on the nose. But I really like how it came out.”

“Me, too.” His enthusiasm was genuine. “Salon or at home?”

“Oh, salon. It’s worth the extra expense not to have to clean up the mess.”

A chuckle floated out of him. “I dyed my hair a bright vomit green when I was your age. Act of rebellion. The loo was a disaster area, but I loved the color.”

This admission got both women’s attention. 

“You went to work like that?” Mouse incredulously. “In _your_ profession?”

“What line of work?” Fascination filled every syllable Blue uttered.

“The bishops and most of the other priests were not amused,” he told Mouse. “But I did my job. It only lasted a few weeks. Sad to see it go, but even I thought it best not to press my luck.

“Yes, luv,” he replied to Blue. “Once upon a time, I was a priest in the Catholic Church.”

“They booted you out, didn’t they?” she guessed. “Didn’t appreciate the James Dean type.”

“Exactly! She gets it,” he nodded at Blue while addressing Mouse.

She gave him a deadpan stare in return.

“Right.” He turned to Blue. “We need to know about the owners of a house here in town. The Roosevelt place?” 

“I can probably get the street address if you need it,” Mouse offered.

“Oh, no. I know what house you mean,” the clerk said. “The house the Devil owns.”

“What?” Marcus and Mouse said in unison.

“There’s an old wives’ tale about how James Roosevelt on a moonless night back in 1853, went to a crossroads and made a deal with the Devil in order for his family to have a roof over their heads before the first snow of the season came.

“Prior to that, it was owned by a man named Fitzgerald, who lived there with _his_ family. The story goes that not ninety minutes after Roosevelt made his deal, his family was making themselves at home. No one knows what became of the Fitzgerald’s. There’s never been anyone by that name who’s lived in this town since.”

Marcus and Mouse shared a look. This could explain why Bennett was in town and why he chose that house in which to reside.

“Does a Roosevelt own it now?” Mouse asked. “Do any still live in town or the county?”

“I’d have to check the records to be sure but, as far as I know, it’s always been owned by a Roosevelt male,” Blue explained. “They never had a female heir as they all died by the time they were thirty-five. Allegedly, if the first born was a daughter, she died not long after the mother became pregnant with baby number two. Bet you can guess what sex that child was.”

“This is probably a long shot,” Marcus began, “but Roosevelt, Fitzgerald. Any relation…?”

She looked at him quizzically for a second before the penny dropped. “Nope. No, but it’s funny, no? What are the odds those names would be associated with three Presidents?” Blue turned to her computer. “Let me get you that info. Give me a few minutes.”

Marcus and Mouse stepped away from the desk, giving them enough space to talk quietly.

“The Presidents’ names may be pure coincidence, but the story about the guy making a deal with the Devil?” Mouse speculated. “It’s too good not to be true, right? Or this is a distraction?”

“The story is a bit too convenient,” Marcus admitted. “But what if the simplest explanation is the right one? Then again, it smacks of Robert Johnson.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He sighed at her ignorance. “The blues musician who went to a crossroads in Mississippi and had the Devil re-tune his guitar in exchange for his soul. He came back with a helluva technique and bloody mastery of the genre. It’s the ultimate urban legend.”

“Got it!” Blue called out. “I’d have to dig deeper for the complete list of owners and that’s going to take time, but I do know who the current owner is.”

They came back over to her, dreading her answer yet knowing it was the only one possible.

“Go on, then,” Marcus encouraged.

“Devon Bennett.”

“Fuck,” Mouse muttered.

  
  
  
  


It had been a slow walk back to the pickup truck after Blue revealed the identity of the Roosevelt house’s current owner. As it turned out, Bennett had taken ownership a month ago. He had been in town for thirty days. More than enough time to set into motion whatever plan he had up his sleeve.

The drive back to the motel had been just as quiet as the stroll to the parking garage located under the county building that housed the property tax assessor’s office. Each was processing the news; trying to think of something, anything, to rally their collective mood. Nothing came to mind.

Marcus wanted to check on Tomas. There had been no texts or voicemails, but he had left him a note. Just like the younger man did for him this morning. He could be still asleep or just waiting patiently for news. Either way, Marcus needed to see him; wrap his arms around him; kiss him passionately.

He wondered if this was how Tomas felt when he sat in this same spot a few hours ago coming back from the fairgrounds. God, how he wished he had stayed in bed with his cub and held him tight instead of getting up.

Not that it wouldn’t have ended the same.

“We have to go there,” Mouse declared a mile from the motel. “We have to scope the place out at least. Moping isn’t going to save us.”

“He’ll smell us before we’re even a block away,” Marcus reminded. “He’ll be expecting a visit. Anticipating it even.”

“Well, then, what do you suggest? Lock yourself in your room with Tomas just fucking your troubles away while Rome burns?” she spat.

“Better than being the suicide bomber who thinks she’s a martyr when all she is a pissed off vigilante who couldn’t even be bothered to stay with her friend while he lay comatose in hospital after being injured on _her watch_.”

A ball of anger grew in her throat. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She gripped the steering wheel as she kept her gaze on the road. Mouse had forgotten that Marcus’ bite was just as bad as his bark. It had never occurred to her until now he blamed her for Bennett’s current state.

They were silent for the next half-mile as tension simmered between them. His chest was tight as a steel drum. His jaw clenched until a spike of pain forced him to release it. The image of Bennett in the bathroom mirror at the diner last night appeared in his mind’s eye. He missed his friend desperately. 

“We should go. I never said we shouldn’t. Just that we won’t have the upper hand.”

“I know,” Mouse admitted. “I shouldn’t have attacked you. Nothing you said was wrong. I just hate being on the backfoot and that’s exactly where we’ve been with him. It’s pissing me off.”

“He’s always had that effect on people,” Marcus said slyly. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

She noticed he didn’t outright apologize. “You meant it didn’t you?”

Silence once more filled the cab.

“I made a choice. I thought he was safe. I was wrong. Had there been any other way—”

“Don’t. It’s done. We just need to focus on how to get him back.”

As they approached the motel, Mouse debated telling him what she had deduced. Their relationship had already taken enough of a beating today and it wasn’t yet two in the afternoon.

“Ready to put a bullet in him, too?” Marcus sneered.

“No.” She pulled into a space in the motel parking lot near her door. It wasn’t until the truck was parked and the engine shut off that she spoke next. “I think it was Bennett who saved me the other night.”

He turned to her after unhooking his seatbelt. “I thought so, too, after listening to Tomas. I thought you’d both think me mad.”

Shaking her head, she assured him, “Not mad. But perhaps too hopeful? I know you’ve had success with bringing someone back from integration, but one case makes it an exception — not the rule.”

“I know what I saw.” He growled, leaning in and taking up personal space.

Her eyes narrowed. “What did you see?”

Face in a scowl, he pulled back and exited the truck.

“Marcus!” She called after him. “Damnit.” Scrambling out of the vehicle, she ran after him. “Marcus!”

A door to one of the rooms opened and Tomas stepped out. He was confused by the ruckus and concerned when he saw the anger in his partner’s face. “Marcus?”

There was no response, but their eyes met and he knew what needed to be done. When Mouse caught up to them, she tried to push her way in. Tomas stood firm on the threshold, refusing to give her passage.

“Out of my way, Tomas.”

“No. I am not letting you in. You should go.”

She couldn’t believe she was hearing this. “We need to talk about Bennett. Marcus is hiding something and I need to know what it is. It concerns Bennett, I know it. Now let me in.”

“We’re all hiding something, Mouse. Marcus is entitled to have his secrets. He’ll share when he wants to share. Now go. I won’t tell you again.”

There was a darkness in Tomas’ eyes she had only seen when they were performing an exorcism. His fierceness had come out to play. Marcus was the beneficiary of this fire. Tomas had claimed him. Mouse knew when to back off. For once, she wasn’t going to follow through.

“This isn’t over,” she promised as she stepped back.

Tomas said nothing. He didn’t have to; the intimidating look he gave her as he closed the door said everything.


	7. Chapter 7

The door shut firmly behind him, Tomas studied Marcus for a long moment. He was standing over the sink on the other side of the room. His palms pressed on the vanity top he was hunched over. He had eschewed his jacket. It lay forgotten on their bed. The lights above the vanity illuminated him like a boxer who had lost a fight. 

Tomas hated seeing his lion like this. Dejected. Beaten down. He watched Marcus turn on the faucet and splash water on his face. The older man blinked as the droplets cascaded off his careworn skin. When he reached for a nearby hand towel, Tomas moved toward him.

Marcus couldn’t help but smile when those strong arms wrapped around him from behind. He stood upright to dry himself. Dragging the towel down over his face and neck, the first thing he saw was his boyfriend staring back at him. Tomas’ chin rested on his shoulder. He looked gorgeous in this light. Then again, when didn’t he look good?

It was a rhetorical question.

“Thank you for getting rid of her,” Marcus said. “I needed a break.”

“You’re welcome.” Tomas’ hazel eyes were soft. “Tell me everything.”

“Here or outside?”

He smiled. While Tomas liked the idea of snuggling up to Marcus on the bed while his lover got him up to speed, fresh air appealed to him even more. Plus, he was hungry. 

“Outside. We can talk over lunch. I heard the woman at the front desk mention a food truck takeover at one of the parks today till three. They may have fish and chips.”

Tomas waggling his eyebrows got a laugh out of Marcus. “How do you do that? I was in such a mood not five minutes ago and now, you’ve got me going on a lunch date with you. I really don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. Just like I deserve you. We were meant for each other, remember? Fated.”

“You’re not driving.”

Letting go of Marcus, Tomas took a step back and put his hands on his hips. “I’m a good driver!” he huffed. “I got us back here last night!”

“You’re rubbish,” the dark blond said kindly. “In a pinch, you’ll do. Otherwise, it’s best to leave to others.”

It was a sore subject with Tomas, who enjoyed getting behind the wheel. He knew this was less to do with his skillset and more to do with his second sight. Never knowing when he could get a vision did make him a potential threat to others. “I know how to drive,” he said, pouting.

Marcus turned and stepped in close, sliding his arms around his lover’s waist. “If it means that much to you, then fine.”

“You’re such a pushover,” Tomas replied with a grin.

“Says you,” Marcus shot back. “If you get us killed, I get to lord it over you for eternity.”

  
  
  
  


As Tomas drove them to Lincoln Park on the southside of the city, Marcus brought him up to speed on what he and Mouse had learned at the tax assessor’s office. How the Roosevelt house was previously owned by the Fitzgerald’s until James Roosevelt allegedly made his deal with the Devil. How it had remained in the family; owned by the male heirs as the first-born females never survived long enough to take ownership. 

The revelation that Bennett was now the owner went over as well as expected. He also made sure to tell him about Blue as he thought she was a damn delight. She had promised to email him any results from her search.

“The house owned by the Devil?” Tomas asked incredulously after pulling into a spot and shutting off the engine.

“Yeah, you would focus on that tidbit,” Marcus observed dryly. “Locals love their legends no matter what. That’s the one thing I’ve noticed in my travels over the years.”

“It definitely gets your attention,” Tomas admitted. He put his hand over Marcus’, which was resting in its owner’s lap. “I’m sure Blue is a lovely young woman. I hope I get to meet her.”

Marcus looked over at him, the corner of his mouth quirking. “You should be so lucky.”

He stole what was supposed to be a quick kiss, before Tomas pulled him in for something deeper. Marcus moaned into his lover’s mouth as the other man’s tongue swept the inside before finding its playmate.

When they parted, the dark blonde pressed his forehead against Tomas’. “I thought you were hungry,” he teased, panting.

“I am. But I decided a taste of you would be my appetizer.”

“Such a horny boy.” Marcus caught Tomas’ mouth once again. He smiled when the younger man chased after another kiss. “Food, luv. Then, dessert.”

They exited the SUV and walked hand in hand over to the line of food trucks along the access road. The city had designed the area for vendors only a few years ago, much to the delight of basically everyone. It had made the park a popular lunch destination. 

Twice a year, Lincoln Park had a food truck festival and once a week, it was home to what was referred to as a takeover. A rotation of six vendors lined up to serve the hungry masses from noon to three. There were picnic tables spread throughout the green, which was the main field of the park. It was a favorite spot for anyone wanting to dine al fresco.

To his delight, Tomas discovered one of the trucks participating today was serving authentic Chicago-style pizza. It was one of the things he missed most about his old stomping grounds — aside from his sister Olivia, his nephew Luis and Olivia’s cooking. He fell into an easy conversation with the owner, who hailed from the Windy City.

Marcus left him to it and checked out the other options. Unfortunately, there was no one selling fish and chips. However, there was a Greek vendor offering souvlaki and gyros. It had been years since his sojourn to Greece. He loved the country, especially Athens and Mykonos. One day, he would take Tomas there; show him something beautiful after all the grotesquerie they had witnessed.

Greece made him think of Algiers, which made him think of Bennett. His friend’s reflection in the mirror at the diner the other night continued to haunt him. Mouse had cottoned on to the fact he was hiding something. Not like it was hard considering how he behaved earlier, but he wasn’t ready to tell her. She would only dismiss it anyway. The same way she did with the idea that Bennett could be saved.

Now, Tomas was a different story. Marcus knew he could tell Tomas anything and he would listen. His partner was more receptive than Mouse. He could be equally stubborn, too. Marcus knew he needed to tell Tomas what had happened. Both at the diner and in the truck with Mouse.

He paid for his meal and found an empty picnic table. One of the perks of arriving on the late side was the place wasn’t packed. There were still enough people around enjoying the nice weather and the food. As he climbed over the bench to sit, Marcus saw Tomas notice him.

“Make a friend?” he asked when Tomas took a seat opposite him.

“Javier. He’s from South Chicago. Came out here a year ago to live with his brother. They own the truck. Javier worked at Phil’s through high school making pizzas. I took it as a sign. He’s working on his bachelor’s while operating the truck with his brother.”

“Sounds like he’s done well for himself.” Seeing Tomas in such good spirits made Marcus’ lift. “Go on then. Don’t leave me in suspense.”

One bite was all it took. Tomas’ eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a sinful moan.

Marcus looked down at his gyro. “I really should have started without you.”

A chuckle bubbled out of Tomas while he chewed. Lifting his slice up, he held out for his partner. “Come on. Try it.” He cast a glance at Marcus’ lunch. “Is that a gyro?”

“Don’t even think about it,” the older man warned. He took a bite of the pizza slice. “That _is_ good.”

While Marcus unwrapped his gyro, Tomas stole a French fry out of the cup. “Oy! Eat your own damn food and keep your greedy fingers to yourself.”

For good measure, he moved the cup closer to him.

Tomas laughed. “You love my greedy fingers, querido. The last thing you want is for me to keep them to myself.”

To prove his point, he reached over and grabbed a couple more fries. He received a slap for his efforts, the St. Benedict’s medal attached to the leather cord on his right wrist swinging ever-so-slightly. Dropping the stolen goods onto his paper plate, he continued to taunt his boyfriend. “Promise me you’ll do that to my ass later.”

Unable to respond due to the mouth full of gyro, Marcus raised his brow. The grin that followed though was the only answer Tomas needed.

“So what set Mouse off?” he asked when his partner was able to speak.

“Bennett.”

He watched Marcus shove some fries into his mouth. “I figured as much. She doesn’t think he can be saved.”

Marcus shook his head. “You know it was him that rescued her from that noose.”

And there it was. They had arrived at this point faster than Tomas had expected. Still, it was better to deal with it now. “It was the only thing that made sense from what John Mitchum told us. Which means there is hope. Naturally, you two would disagree.”

“She said Angela Rance was the exception not the rule.” Marcus tore another bite off his gyro.

“It’s not the first time she’s made her opinion felt about that,” Tomas counseled. “It doesn’t mean she’s ready to give up. She’s cautious, Marcus. She hasn’t seen what we’ve seen. You know better than anyone she sees black and white where we see gray.”

“Don’t you mean _you_ know? You’ve spent the most time with this version. My Mouse died a long time ago … in large part because of me.” The dark blonde pushed aside his half-eaten meal.

“Stop it.” Tomas hated it when Marcus punished himself for things that were beyond his control. “You made the best decision you could in the moment. I know you regret leaving her knowing what you know now, but you can’t change it. So just stop.”

He considered what Tomas said. After a moment, he nodded. “I saw Bennett in the bathroom mirror at the diner last night.”

Tomas crossed himself. “What did he do? Did he say anything?”

“He mouthed my name. I turned to look behind me, but there was no one. I turned back to the mirror and he was gone.” Marcus waited for his partner’s reaction.

“I knew something had spooked you in there. You were off after that. It was obvious the second I saw you.” Tomas took his boyfriend’s hands in his. “Are you okay?”

“You know me better than anyone outside of Bennett,” Marcus said, squeezing his hands. “I wasn’t surprised you picked up on that. I’m better than okay. I’m determined. He’s in there, Tomas. I feel it.”

The younger man thought of the scene at their motel room door. “That’s what you wouldn’t tell Mouse. Not that I blame you. Will you ever tell her?”

Marcus nodded. “Sooner or later. Whichever comes first.”

  
  
  
  


“ _You let him drive?!_ ” Mouse exclaimed when Marcus got out of the vehicle. She had seen the black SUV pull into a spot in the motel parking lot with Tomas behind the wheel. “You were the one who warned me what a shit driver he was. You were right, by the way.”

“Hey!” Tomas took great offence at her criticism. He slammed the door shut and stalked over to her. “I am an excellent driver. At least I don’t think eighty is the new thirty-five and direction signals are for morons.”

Marcus put a hand on the nape of Tomas’ neck hoping to calm him down. They had walked around the park a bit after lunch. Neither had been in a hurry to return. Hand in hand they strolled, taking in God’s handiwork from the bright sun and blue sky above their heads to the dirt and grass under their feet. 

At one point, Marcus had pulled his lover into a wooded glen a few feet off the path they were on. Here, he had pressed Tomas against a tree and proceeded to make out with him. They had kept it PG despite them both wanting to press for PG-13. No point in getting arrested for public lewdness. 

“What are you doing out here anyway?” he asked Mouse now.

“You said in your text you were on your way back. So, I figured we’d just go.”

Tomas rolled his eyes. He had forgotten how everything had to be done on her schedule. There was a time where he was grateful for her taking charge. This was not that time. 

“Of course, you did. Did you do any research first or we are going in blind?”

He felt Marcus squeeze his nape, warning him to not poke the bear. After the way she treated his partner earlier, Tomas wanted a sharp stick in his hand. _Inhalar. Exhalar._ A deep breath filled his lungs before he pushed out the air. It took a second round before he felt calmer. Leaning into Marcus’ touch also helped.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier, okay?” Mouse stood with her arms crossed over her chest as she addressed both men. “I just want to see this house for myself. Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Marcus asked, dropping his hand from Tomas’ neck. “Knock on the door with a plate of chocolate chip cookies or an apple pie and a smile? He’ll know we’re coming the second we enter that neighborhood.”

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take,” she told them. “I’m not looking to storm the castle. Just drive up to the moat and pray the drawbridge doesn’t get lowered.”

“And what if it does?” Tomas asked, the edge in his voice dulled somewhat. “What if there’s a welcoming party when we pull up? Or worse, what if Bennett opens the door and all hell breaks loose? Innocents could die.”

“They’re already dead,” Mouse snapped. “You think the former owner is still alive? He’s buried in the backyard or integrated. We can’t just sit here twiddling our thumbs waiting for him to strike. _He already has._ ”

“We still don’t know why he hit the fair,” Marcus reasoned.

“To make some noise. That was for my benefit,” she said, sadness in her eyes. “He wanted to prove that just because I found him didn’t mean I was in control. Those innocent lives were just pawns on a chessboard. Willing pawns to be sacrificed for his own amusement.”

Mouse closed the gap between her and Marcus. Her face inches from his own. “This is what I meant in the truck earlier. The Bennett we know wouldn’t do that. He may have had a moment of lucidity, for which I will be eternally grateful, but he’s not in charge. That demon is and it will burn everything to the ground in order to get its way.”

“What is that?” Tomas asked. “Its plan. Why is it here? What does it want? Preston has significance. That house is no fluke.”

“Why did the Devil even want that house to begin with?” Marcus queried as Mouse stepped back. “What made James Roosevelt and his descendants the perfect caretakers? I mean, it could have been dumb luck. He was the poor unfortunate soul to be desperate enough to make a crossroads deal. I wonder if we could find out what the deal was? I’ll ask Blue. If she doesn’t know, maybe she can point to someone who does.”

The last thing he wanted was to pay the Roosevelt house a visit so soon. There were myriad reasons why this was a bad thing. After talking with Mouse, there were now a slew of questions in his head demanding answers. His curiosity had been piqued. Bloody hell. Marcus glanced at Tomas. The younger man knew what was coming and accepted it.

The time had come to be proactive. If they had any chance of winning at all, the ball was in their court.

“Let’s go see the house of the Devil,” Tomas announced. He looked at Mouse. “You’re riding in the backseat.”


	8. Chapter 8

The neighborhood where the Roosevelt house resided was an affluent one. It was one of the bigger houses on its block, which was not to say it was huge, and one of the oldest in that section of the city. All the homes in the neighborhood dated back to the late 1700s. 

Updates had been applied over the centuries to keep the structures modern so that none were viable for historical status but, as the bones were still authentic, the owners weren’t really bothered. The properties were well kept from the immaculate lawns to the expensive vehicles parked in the driveways.

All the families had money, but most were not from the immediate area. Those few whose lineage traveled back two centuries were given the respect they believed they were due. However, there was one family whom the others kept at a distance. The house that belonged to this clan had been long admired and feared in equal measure.

James Roosevelt and his deal with the Devil that fateful night in 1853 had long become urban legend. Parents told their children the tale in order to scare them straight. It didn’t always work like they had hoped. Until recently, that was, when the new owner moved into the house. 

No one had been sorry to see Christopher Roosevelt vacate the premises. In fairness, this was simply because hardly anyone ever talked to him. In his mid-fifties and single, he had mostly kept to himself since inheriting the house from his father when the elder Roosevelt had died two years ago. 

At least Christopher had been a quiet neighbor.

This new owner had half the neighborhood up in arms within a week after moving in. It was bad enough he simply took over the place as was, furnishings and all. The gossip mill had churned when someone had learned Christopher Roosevelt simply vanished. His house sold with no fanfare. Some had even wondered if the place had even been listed. No one could recall even seeing a “For Sale” sign out front.

People had been seen going into the residence at all hours. There were rumors of people being led inside like slaves under the cover of darkness; of chanting in some weird language, possibly Latin, but who knows? This was all very unsettling, but no one said a word. They just made sure their doors and windows were locked, and their alarm systems were set when they went to bed.

To be woken in the dead of night to the sound of someone screaming as if their life depended on it, however, was another matter. Residents gathered in the street in their pajamas and coats or robes with slippers or other shoes on their feet. Some pounded on Roosevelt's front door.

In due course, those at the door were greeted by black gentleman with an indeterminate accent. He apologized for the noise and explained his companion was deathly afraid of spiders. As it so happened, a rather large arachnid had found its way into the house and onto the toilet seat in the bathroom. 

The matter had been dealt with, he assured his guests, and would not be an issue going forward. He was so polite and nice, the crowd had no choice but to disperse. Perhaps they had been wrong about him, about everything, they murmured. After everyone had gone home and the man at the door had long since gone back inside, only one person remained.

She stood silent on the sidewalk across the street, watching the house as if she expected it to react to her presence. All of twelve years old with long blond hair that reached to the small of her back, Halley Louise Jemson knew evil had infected her hometown, her neighborhood, her block.

That night, tucked in her bed, was the first time she had prayed to God in earnest.

Two weeks later, her prayers were answered.

  
  
  
  


Marcus parked the black SUV one block over from Maple Street. It blended well with the other vehicles parked on the road. They walked up Elm Street to Maple. The sun was shining brightly, only occasionally going behind a cumulus cloud. The neighborhood seemed innocuous, though that really didn’t mean anything. Evil could live in a nice house or in a slum. It infected whatever it touched, so in the end everything would decay from the inside out.

“Great. A nightmare on Elm Street. Could this be any more on the nose?” Mouse snarked. She took in the reactions from her colleagues. “I _have_ seen a movie or two.”

“No doubt you think _The Omen_ is a feel-good drama,” Tomas mumbled under his breath.

“What?” 

She had honestly no idea what he was on about nor why he suddenly had such a bug up his ass about her, but Mouse didn’t care. They had more important things to deal with — like the house on the corner that loomed before them and its owner.

Besides, she had apologized for her earlier behavior. Why couldn’t Tomas just get over it already? Marcus seemed to have done so. Mouse saw her friend slide his pinky around Tomas’ and give it a tug while they walked ahead. The fight went out of Tomas before he squared his shoulders just as they reached the three-way intersection.

“So, do we just stand here gaping or what?” she asked, itching for a fight.

“We don’t know he’s home,” Tomas said. “Besides, casing the joint will only get us noticed.”

“What do you think you should do, Marcus?”

The question was posed by young Halley Louise, who stood next to the dark blond.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he replied.

She stuck out her hand. “Halley Louise Jemson. I live two houses down.”

He took her small hand and shook it firmly. “Nice to meet you, Halley Louise. Why do you want to know what I think we should do?”

“We’re curious.”

This got the adults’ attention as Tomas and Mouse drew close to Marcus.

“ _We_?” the older man asked.

“Don’t worry. It’s not whom you fear, but to whom you pray.”

“God … is speaking through you?” Tomas asked bewilderedly.

Halley Louise giggled. “No, silly. But He is listening.” To Marcus, she added, “I wish you didn’t have to go in there. He scares me.”

“The man who owns the house.” 

She nodded. “He’s made people disappear.” 

Marcus looked across the street. 

“Tell me what you’ve seen, luv.”

“He woke up the whole street a couple weeks ago. Someone screamed really loud and had everyone buzzing. Then, Mr. Donnelly and a few others went to talk to him about it. The man said something or other and closed the door. I couldn’t really hear, but Mr. Donnelly said it was all a misunderstanding. I don’t buy it.

“You’ve heard about people going in at all hours? I haven't slept much since he arrived, so I keep watch. I have notes. I wish I had photos and video, but my parents won’t let me have a smartphone and I was never interested in photography.”

“Harriet the Spy,” Tomas said admiringly with a touch of worry.

The girl brightened at the comparison. “I love her so much. I wanna be just like her. When I grow up, it’s either an investigative journalist or detective. I’ve seen a few episodes of _Veronica Mars_.”

Crouching before her, Marcus took her hands in his. “I very much want you to grow up. We all do, so I need you to stand down. The man who owns that house,” he pointed across the street at the Roosevelt home, “is very dangerous. He will kill you or worse if you get in his way.”

She saw the sadness in his blue eyes. “He’s still in there.”

“I know, but I need you to stay away from him, luv. Promise me.”

“I promise.” Halley Louise hugged him. While she had her arms wrapped around his neck, she whispered in his ear, “Not the demon. Your friend.”

Stepping back, she saw the suspicion in Tomas’ and Mouse’s eyes. However, all she cared about was the understanding in Marcus’.

“Could we see your notes from your investigation?” Tomas queried politely as Marcus rose. “It might prove useful to us.”

“Sure! Come on.” Halley Louise led him and Mouse away from Marcus toward her house. “We’ll just tell my mom you’re my teacher and his assistant helping me with a special assignment. She loves when I do extra credit.”

“Won’t God frown on that? Honoring your mother and father _is_ one of the commandments,” Mouse argued.

The girl thought about it, then shrugged. “If He doesn’t like my methods, He’ll let me know.”

A strong breeze kicked up as Marcus stared at the Roosevelt house. He could have sworn there was someone in the downstairs window watching him, but a blink later and the window was empty. 

It was now or never.

Checking to make sure the road was clear, he stepped off the curb and crossed Maple Street. Just as he put a foot on the porch, the door unlocked. Taking a deep breath, Marcus pushed it open and entered. The house swallowed him before anyone noticed.

  
  
  
  


What struck Marcus most as he stood in the living room was how normal the place seemed to be. It appeared as if any non-demonic family could be living here as opposed to a demon who had integrated with a priest. Marcus had no illusions that Bennett had integrated by now. Especially after hearing about the poor nurse his friend had killed. He made his way through the room: looking through drawers, under couch cushions, inside storage spaces. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

He did the same through each of the other rooms: meticulously making his way through the dining room, kitchen, half-bath and study on the first floor before heading upstairs.

The house was immaculately furnished with state-of-the-art appliances and designer touches throughout. The interior gave the place a modern air to juxtapose the old-school exterior. It was obvious even to the untrained eye that the structure had been updated continually over the years.

There was one attribute Marcus had noticed in the living room that also pertained to the bedrooms: they all had blackout curtains. It seemed odd but, then again, maybe he was just looking for an excuse to justify his breaking and entering. One by one, he investigated each room on the second floor — three bedrooms (one with an en suite bath) and a full bath. 

He was about to see about an attic, when a narrow door to his right caught his eye. Had this been there when he first came up? It had to have been. Doors don’t just appear out of thin air. Clutching the handle, Marcus turned it. Locked. The corner of his mouth quirked. Out of the back pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a self-made lockpicking kit.

“Never leave home without it,” he quipped to himself. A few seconds later, the door popped open. “What secrets lie within?”

A blast of cold air greeted him. The scene was a familiar one. A soiled mattress on the floor. Chains drilled into the walls near the baseboards. An upside-down cross that had been hung that way.

“That’s a new one.”

The hardwood floor seemed to be the original, but how was that possible? It was unlikely given the extensive upgrades the rest of the house had seen. He whipped out his phone and began taking photos. Every inch of the room was documented. Tomas and Mouse needed to see this, of that he was certain.

As he walked around the tiny space, the hairs on his arms stood up. There was a presence in the room. Again, how was this possible? He was a man of faith who dealt with demons. Ghosts were above his pay grade.

“House of the Devil. Stands to reason it would be haunted.” His gaze soared across his surroundings. Exorcists had been called in to exorcise houses. Perhaps the three of them could do this place a favor. Probably would collapse once it was cleansed. Good riddance, in that case.

“ _Marcus._ ”

The voice spooked him more than he’d care to admit. He stumbled into the wall across from the mattress and promptly fell on his ass. There was no one here. The air was still.

“Hello?”

No response came forth. Marcus shook his head. The reputation of the Roosevelt house had preceded itself right into his brain. It was fucking with him — whether he was referring to the house or his brain was unclear in the moment. He moved his hand to rub his sore ass when his fingers brushed against a loose section of baseboard.

Crouched, he turned and pulled the piece away. Behind it was a sort of cubbyhole with something inside. It felt like a book bound in leather. Once he removed it, Marcus saw it was a Bible. The leather was black and the lettering gold. Its fore-edge also was gold.

He opened it about a quarter of the way through. There were rudimentary drawings that reminded him of his own Bible. A building he came across after a few pages struck a nerve. It looked familiar, though he couldn’t place it. More was still to be uncovered in the book, but he hadn’t time now. 

Standing, he checked to make sure he had his phone in his jacket pocket. With the found Bible in hand, he made his way out. Before the door closed, Marcus took a couple photos of the door itself and of the hallway, where it was sandwiched between the bathroom and one of the bedrooms.

Quickly, he looked up at the ceiling. There was no sign of an attic door. It was possible there was a crawlspace in the closet of the master bedroom, but it was of no concern. He went back downstairs to where he had seen a door just off the kitchen. 

This door didn’t lead outside as the one inside the kitchen did. No, this undoubtedly led to the basement. There was a deadbolt on the door. Marcus pushed it back and turned the lock knob so it was horizontal. The door opened with ease. Reaching around the threshold, he found a switch just inside which lit up the basement.

An unusual odor hit his nose which he could not place. It was a combination of sweet and sour. Carefully, he made his way down the wood stairs. The further down he went the stronger the odor became. It was now neither sweet nor sour, but foul and pungent. 

On the third to bottom step, he was greeted with a visual that made his stomach turn. His right hand instinctively made a cross as he said a prayer to bless the souls that had been taken and to give him strength.

Half of the basement floor was covered with bodies. Naked, decaying corpses of men and women, boys and girls, ranging in age from six to ninety and covered in dried blood. It was a horrific sight to behold. 

Marcus had seen some truly nefarious acts in his days as an exorcist, but never had he witnessed intimate evidence of mass murder by a demon. That was exactly what he was seeing now and it froze the blood in his veins.

The voice inside him told him to take photos, so he did. He was barely conscious of what he was doing. There was no need to move, for his perch gave him a bird’s eye view of the carnage. He took photos of the rest of the basement for good measure.

Then, he somehow managed to grab the Bible he had put on the step behind him and leave the bodies of the innocents who had been slaughtered in the name of the Devil. It occurred to him that perhaps not all those people had been innocent in life. He reprimanded himself, reminding him they were all God’s children.

Once he was outside, Marcus didn’t stop moving. He needed to get the hell away from that house. It was, indeed, the house of the Devil. There was no denying it. He believed James Roosevelt had made a deal that fateful night in the crossroads which made him and his descendants the caretakers of this rotten house in perpetuity or, as it turned out, until the owner came knocking.

As he crossed the street, he didn’t head toward the Jemson house to find Tomas and Mouse. He kept moving until he felt the cold, clammy sensation that settled in his bones and on his soul the second he stepped foot onto the Roosevelt property leave him. Then, he found the nearest trash can out of public view and promptly threw up in it.

Afterward, Marcus went back to the SUV. He sat in the driver’s seat with the windows down and the seat reclined until Tomas found him.


	9. Chapter 9

Halley Louise led her new friends into the home where she lived with her parents. She was worried for Marcus, but the sweet smell of brownies baking in the oven momentarily distracted her. She had only ever resided in this house. Preston was her hometown and she couldn’t see herself leaving if she was being honest. This made her sad, but not as much as she would have thought.

Now, though, she was in better spirits. Help had arrived and she couldn’t be happier with the crew He had sent. Halley Louise had gone to church all her life. The pastor at her church was a nice woman, who believed God loved us all regardless of race or sexual orientation. Pastor Sarah welcomed all walks into the house of the Lord for He would expect nothing less.

The girl had spent some time with Pastor Sarah over the summer at Bible school. She had found the older woman fascinating and her take on God illuminating. More than once in the past couple weeks, Halley Louise had wondered what Pastor Sarah would make of the bad man who had taken over the house on the corner. A chill ran down her spine whenever she had thought of one of her favorite people meeting such a conduit of evil.

From that moment on, she hoped with every fiber of her being they never crossed paths. The arrival of Marcus, Tomas and Mouse eased her fears a bit. Even though she had just met them, she liked them and trusted the trio. As Tomas and Mouse followed her inside, Tomas put a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you sure your mother will be okay with us here?”

Halley Louise smiled as she watched him crook his neck in anticipation of the woman popping up with a weapon of some sort.

“Sweetie? Is that you?” A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair swept up into a messy bun came into the room. The look of surprise at finding her daughter was not alone put Tomas and Mouse on guard.

“This is Mr. Velazquez and Ms. Mirren from school. He thinks my writing has potential. They’re here to look over a special project I was assigned.” Halley Louise looked down while she crossed her arms over her chest. “I left it here and there’s a deadline.”

Mrs. Jemson looked mildly skeptical. “Halley, you’re usually better than that.” She glanced at the two strangers in her living room, standing behind her daughter. “A bit above and beyond, isn't it?”

“It was her suggestion,” Mouse informed her, awkwardly patting the girl’s head. “She’s not wrong. There _is_ a deadline and it is vital to look over her work now so we can decide if it’s worthy of consideration.”

“We understand, Mrs. Jemson, that we’ve put you at a disadvantage. Halley insisted it was better you didn’t know in case things didn’t work out.” Tomas’ heart tightened for a reason he couldn’t discern. He was doing his best to stick as close to the truth as possible, but there was no reason for his distress.

A pained smile appeared on the mother’s face. “She’s so sensitive about her writing. It’s not the first time you’ve been chosen for a competition, huh, Hal?” Her gaze went from her daughter, who nodded, to the pair before her. “It’s fine. I’m just impressed you made a house call.”

“Anything for Halley,” Mouse told Mrs. Jemson. Her hand landed on the girl’s other shoulder, which received a supportive squeeze. 

The girl raised her head to look at her mother; her confidence restored. “Is it okay if we go in my room? That’s where my work is.”

“Can’t you bring it out here?”

“It’s of a delicate nature,” Tomas reasoned. “Not suitable for the public yet.”

Mouse understood what was on the other woman’s mind. “How about I go with Halley as I’m sure having a man in her ten-year-old daughter’s room is not something Mrs. Jemson is entirely comfortable with.”

She eyed Tomas intently, hoping he wasn’t going to be obtuse. To her relief, he got the implications immediately. As someone who had taken his vows, it should have been at the forefront of his mind.

“Of course. I was just so excited to see what she had come up with. Forgive me,” he apologized.

Mrs. Jemson relaxed. “I’m about to frost a batch of brownies I just pulled from the oven. Perhaps you’d like to keep me company? You can tell me about this assignment or competition, whatever you’re calling it.”

Tomas smiled broadly. “My pleasure.”

“Will you let lick him the spoon or is that still my job?” Halley Louise asked teasingly.

“Depends how fast you can wrap up your meeting, young lady.” Her mother wore a warm smile and a twinkle in her brown eyes.

“Uh oh,” Mouse said playfully. “Guess we really _are_ on a clock.”

Leaning into Tomas, she whispered, “I’ll make sure to get everything we need.”

He nodded and followed Mrs. Jemson into the kitchen.

  
  
  
  


Halley Louise led Mouse to her room upstairs. It was painted a pale green; posters of celebrity crushes and movies adorned the walls. At least that which wasn’t taken up by bookcases. There were books lining the shelves, but not just novels. Notebooks took up almost as much space. A four-poster bed was nestled beneath a window near the door. 

Opposite the door was a window that looked out onto the street below and had a near-perfect view of the Roosevelt house. A window seat was available for perching; next to which was a small desk, neatly arranged. The drawer in the center could be locked as it had a keyhole. No doubt the key was close at hand, Mouse surmised.

“This is quite the spread. I bet you hate leaving this place.”

The girl looked at her curiously. “You had a place like this once?”

Mouse nodded. “I did. It was a convent, but I had my own room. I was one of the lucky ones. I loved it.”

“Why did you leave?” Halley Louise sat down in the chair at her desk facing her new friend.

Perusing the room as she talked, Mouse picked up pop culture figures and academic awards, putting them back down; doing the same for the books and photos throughout. “I got sick and nearly died. When I was better, the place had been tainted. I couldn’t be there anymore. Besides, I had a mission. Still do.”

“You were possessed.”

Mouse turned her head to look at the girl who sat calmly awaiting a reply. “Yes. Did He tell you that?” She quickly cast her eyes up.

With a giggle, Halley Louise told her, “No. It was the way you said it. Like it was a … a euphemism. Your mission. Is it to save souls? Those who were possessed like you?”

“‘Euphemism,’ huh? You _are_ smart. The writing thing is real. You’ve been drafted into competitions and things.”

She shrugged. “I’m good at writing and I love words. I’m good at school, too. I won a couple things, lost out on some others. So, your mission?”

The corner of Mouse’s mouth quirked. “Yeah. Saving souls of the possessed. Occasionally, I even save the host. It’s rare though.”

“You do your best. That’s what counts.”

Sitting down on the bed facing her friend, Mouse admitted, “Doesn’t always feel that way.”

They sat in silence for a minute. 

“You wanna see the journal?” Halley Louise asked like she wanted to know if Mouse wanted to watch a movie.

“Absolutely.” She observed the girl as she removed the key to the desk from its hiding space under the mattress of her bed. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Nope.” The blonde unlocked the drawer and, once it was open, pulled out a red spiral notebook. Handing it to Mouse, she told her, “You can keep it. Now that you and your friends are here, it’s probably best if I hand the case over to a higher authority.”

The brunette smiled, accepting the notebook. “It _is_ for the best. You’ve done more than most would have in your position.”

She flipped through the pages, her eyes widening at the attention to detail in the notes. The book wasn’t filled, but what was there covered at least half the number of pages — if not more. “Jeez, kid. Halley, did the man across the street see you while you were … working?”

“I don’t think so. It’s one of the reasons I’m glad you’re here. I know I can’t stop him, but you can. To be honest, I may have given it up if you hadn’t come. It’s starting to affect my schoolwork and I’m so tired.”

Seeing the dejected look on her young friend’s face made Mouse notice for the first time the girl’s worn down appearance. No one that age should look like they've been working sixty-hour weeks. It made Mouse’s heart ache to see the toll this mission had taken on her.

Kneeling before her, she took Halley Louise’s hands in her own. “You are such a brave girl. You’ve done so well. It’s my turn to take on your burden. Marcus, Tomas and I, we _will_ end Bennett one way or another. We will do everything we can to save him, save his soul. You are relieved of duty, my dear. Absolved of any guilt or sin. Go do whatever it is that makes an amazing girl like you happy. Study, hang out with your friends and family, watch movies.”

The girl laughed at the last bit, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She dove into Mouse’s arms, wrapping herself around the woman. Mouse held her tight and, for the first time — for only a second — was just a little melancholic she would never have a child of her own. 

  
  
  
  


The kitchen of the Jemson home was bright and cheery. A light breeze came in from the three rectangular windows open above the sink. An aroma of rich chocolate filled the room as Mrs. Jemson pulled out two trays of brownies from the oven. She had cooling racks ready on the table in the center of the room. Beside the stove, on the counter, was a mixing bowl halfway filled with chocolate frosting.

“How can I help, Mrs. Jemson?” Tomas asked the lady of the house. “Or is the answer by not getting in your way?”

She giggled as she put down the second tray atop a cooling rack. “If you want, the frosting gig is still available. We can each take a tray. I have an extra spatula you can use.”

“Yes. Though I must warn you, I haven’t done this in awhile,” he admitted. “My sister was always making cupcakes or brownies for my nephew’s school.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Does your sister live in the area, Mr. Gutierrez?” Mrs. Jemson leaned with her back against the counter, her fingers curled around the edge.

“Tomas, please. And no. She’s in Chicago.” He took a seat at the table, his hands folded and resting on his crossed legs. “What about you? Are you from here?”

“I grew up just outside Philly. I met Morgan, my husband and Halley’s dad, in college. We moved out here when he got a job with a chemical plant. And it’s Meg.”

He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Meg.”

She returned his smile. “Nice to meet you, Tomas.” 

A comfortable silence grew between them as they waited for the brownies to cool before frosting them. 

“How is Halley doing? I know about the insomnia and how she sits at her window at night taking notes. About what, I don’t know, but something tells me it has to do with that damn devil house.”

There was no hiding Tomas’ surprise. Though he should haven’t been caught off guard to the degree he was considering his sister Olivia’s sixth sense when it came to the activities of both him and her son, Luis. 

“A mother always knows,” he said softly.

“I don’t know about that, but I caught her one night a week ago when I went to check on her. I had to get up anyway and I remember having this sudden compulsion to make sure she was okay.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I asked her what she was doing. She said, ‘Homework. Just a few more minutes, Mom.’ I waited for her to finish because I’m not stupid. She would have stayed up for the rest of the night.”

Tomas uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Did she say why she was doing her homework so late?” 

He needed to know if God had spoken to Meg, as well.

“Just that she couldn’t sleep and knew this needed to be done. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve been checking on her every night since. And every night, she’s sitting on that damn window seat with her notebook in her lap looking out. Finally, the other night, I asked her what the assignment was.”

“What did she say?” he prompted.

“Just that it was something special and it would be over soon. I asked for more information. All she would say was that it was some fieldwork for her report. She said she was going to be handing it in and wanted it to be as complete as possible.”

Meg’s brow furrowed. “Is that why you’re really here? To pick up that report?”

“Yes.” Tomas was relieved he didn’t have to lie to her, but was concerned about Halley Louise. “As far as my colleague and I are concerned, her work is done. I sincerely hope she’s able to get a full night’s rest from now on.”

“You and me both. No offense, but that report is bullshit. Or at least the stress it put her under. I’m sorry if I’m being rude, but—.”

“You’re worried about your daughter. I understand. She’s lucky to have you,” he told her. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. You call her Halley, but she introduces herself as Halley Louise. Why is that?”

The worry eased from Meg’s features. “Her dad calls her Halley Louise and she claims it sounds professional. She wants to be a reporter or detective. Anything that allows her to investigate and possibly help people.”

There was pride on her face. “She’s such a good person with the biggest heart, but … I worry about her.”

“You referred to the house across the street, the Roosevelt house, as ‘that damn devil house.’ Why such a reaction to an urban legend?”

A dark cloud passed over Meg’s face. “That house has been a stain on this neighborhood ever since the new owner took over. God only knows what happened to Chris Roosevelt. He was a nice man, who was scared to death of that house. One day we were talking about the upcoming carnival, the next day that creepy guy was outside on the front lawn pressing his hands into the grass.”

Tomas sat up. He had to tread carefully. “That’s … not normal, is it? I’ve never owned a home, so I’m not up on lawn maintenance.”

Meg scoffed. “He looked like he was praying or summoning something.” She exhaled. “I’m not a gossip and I don’t consider myself to be judgmental. But, Tomas, as God as my witness, that man is up to no good. I found Halley outside on the sidewalk across from that house after a horrific scream woke up the neighborhood late one night.”

She came closer and he rose to meet her. Dropping her voice, she told him, “It sounded like someone was being murdered. I’m not exaggerating.”

“When was this? What happened?” His pulse was accelerated and fear was fondling his heart with its icy fingers. Halley Louise had told her account, but he was eager to hear Meg’s.

“Two weeks ago.” She did the math in her head. “Exactly. The house’s owner came out when a few of us went to his front door and said his companion saw a spider and was deathly afraid of them. The response from those at his door was unbelievable. They just smiled, shrugged their shoulders and were all, ‘Okie dokie.’”

Her anger resided just below the surface, but it was close to breaking through. The incredulous notes in her voice grew sharper. “I couldn’t believe it! But it’s one person, right? The last thing I need is to start a war with him. Not when I have my family to think about. Morgan and I came back inside talking about it.

“A bit later, he goes to check on Halley as we left her asleep in her bed. He shouts my name and comes running down the stairs saying she’s not in her room or anywhere upstairs.” She pauses. “Tomas, I knew where she was. I tore out of this house and when I got to the sidewalk, there she was standing at the corner _staring_ at that house. She was terrified. We all were. I grabbed her and _carried_ her back here.”

He put a hand on her upper arm in comfort. The memory of that night still affected her. She was trembling and her eyes were wet. 

“It’s okay, Meg,” Tomas said, consoling her. “She’s here. You brought her home and she does not have to spend time thinking about that house anymore.”

She blinked a couple times. “You and your friend. You’re not from the school, are you?”

He didn’t have the heart nor the temerity to lie to her. Not after she opened up to him. “No. We are exorcists. We believe that the house’s new owner is possessed by a demon.”

Meg stared at him for the longest time without moving or saying a word. Tomas gave her time to let the truth of his words sink in, anxiously awaiting her reaction.

There was a battle inside her as her rational side mocked what she had just heard, while her instinct told her everything he said was true. As the one who took Halley Louise to church every Sunday, she decided to go with what she understood. “Can you remove the stain?”

“Yes.” Tomas tried not to think about what that meant if they couldn’t bring back Bennett and banish the demon.

“Good.” She took a cleansing breath. “Still want to frost some brownies?”

He smiled as much from relief as anything else. However, he never had a chance to respond.

“We’ll help you, Mom,” Halley Louise and Mouse had appeared at the kitchen’s entrance. “Tomas has to go check on Marcus.”

Meg looked from her daughter to Tomas. “Who’s Marcus?”

“My partner. He went to investigate the Roosevelt place.” Tomas never took his eyes off the girl. “Do you know where he is?”

“I saw him run out of the house down Elm Street before we left my room.” She pointed out the back door.

“That’s where we parked,” Mouse noted. “Go. I’ll … frost some brownies and catch up with you.”

Tomas nodded. He turned his head toward Meg. “Thank you for everything.”

With a grateful smile, he was out of the house and tearing down Elm Street praying with each step that Marcus was okay.

  
  
  
  


Marcus heard the footfalls on the pavement. He opened his eyes and, looking out the driver’s side, saw Tomas running toward him. The key sat in the ignition, waiting to be of service. It was turned so the battery would kick on. He hit the button on the side of the seat so the back could return to an upright position.

After turning the key so the SUV was off again, Marcus jumped out of the vehicle just as Tomas approached. The younger man embraced his lover, holding him tightly as his heart pounded.

“Are you alright? ¿Estás bien, mi amor?” The questions rushed out of Tomas. “Halley Louise saw you leave the Roosevelt house. She … told me you needed me. I’m here. I’m here.”

At this, tears pierced Marcus’ eyes and he buried his face in his boyfriend’s neck. He thought he had been able to compartmentalize the experience in the short time he had been sitting in the driver’s seat. His heart rate had lowered itself and his pulse had slowed. What a fool he had been to think what he had witnessed could be handled so easily.

Marcus shook in his arms. Tomas had never seen him like this. Something had occurred in that house. And if it could rattle someone with this man’s experience, then Tomas knew it had been truly evil.

“What happened, baby? I got you. No one will hurt you now. Háblame, cariño. Di algo,” Tomas urged.

His heart tightened as the older man let out a strangled sob. “I shouldn’t have let you go in alone. I knew what you were doing, that it was a risk. Lo siento mucho, Marcus. No debí abandonarte.”

Tomas kissed his boyfriend’s shoulder; his lips pressed against the leather. He had one arm around Marcus’ shoulders with his other hand gripping the back of the dark blond’s head. Eyes closed, he said a small prayer thanking God for watching over his partner when he could not. 

There was silence before Marcus broke it. He pulled back enough to rest his forehead against Tomas’, taking a hand from around the younger man’s waist to cup his nape. 

“You didn’t abandon me. I was meant to go in there alone. It was as God had intended. He watched over me, Tomas. I felt him with me every step of the way.”

Eyes wet, Tomas nodded. “Of course. He would make sure you were looked after no matter what. Will you tell me what you saw? I need to know what put you in this state. My lion is not so easily rattled.”

A small smile played on Marcus’ lips. “More than I sometimes let on, cub. I have photos on my phone — at least I hope so. Me and technology and all that.”

Tomas chuckled. “Probably all abstract pictures of your feet, the ceiling and door knobs.”

Marcus let out a robust laugh. “Christ, I hope not.” His mood softened. “I’m so happy you came after me, luv. You’re a balm for the soul after the afternoon I’ve had. Easy on the eyes to boot.”

“So are you, querido. I love you. I’m so damn happy you’re okay.” Tomas took his lover’s face in his hands, capturing his mouth earnestly and passionately. 

“Not sure I’d agree with that last bit just yet,” Marcus admitted when they parted. “But keep kissing me like that and I’ll hit okay in no time.”

With a grin, the younger man again brushed his lips against his boyfriend’s. Tomas may have licked his way in, but he didn’t claim Marcus’ mouth like he wanted to due to their current location. 

“I love you, too,” Marcus told him when they broke for air again. He caught someone coming toward them out of the corner of his eye.

Mouse was holding a plate of brownies wrapped in plastic wrap with a content look on her face. That look morphed into concern when she got a better look at her friend. “What the hell happened in there? It was that bad?”

“Worse.” Marcus glanced at the plate she was holding. “Those for me?”

“I’m thinking they are now,” she said regretfully. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive. You two can canoodle in the backseat.”

“‘Canoodle?’” The strange word confused Tomas.

“In the ignition,” Marcus told her as he opened the back door on the driver’s side. To Tomas, he explained succinctly, “Cuddling.”

Understanding washed over his face, accompanied by a warm smile. “You’ve most definitely earned a canoodle.”

He kissed Marcus’ forehead, then followed him into the backseat. His boyfriend’s head rested on Tomas’ shoulder as they held hands, fingers intertwined, for the length of the drive back to the motel.


	10. Chapter 10

**Algiers, Algeria — Seven years ago**

That afternoon, Marcus walked through the Kasbah with Bennett at his side. The site was known as the heart of the Old City though it had fallen into disrepair over the years. Some of the buildings that once stood here were gone. It was only a matter of time before the rest followed.

Marcus had a soft spot for the Kasbah. He understood that at some point in his life, he, too, would be like this spot. Broken down, yet still standing until the very end. It was pretty much his lot in life. Ever since he was born, Marcus had been beaten, torn down — even left for dead once or twice — but there he was, on his feet and playing tour guide to his taciturn companion.

He wouldn’t dream of calling Bennett a friend. Not yet anyway. The younger man had made it clear he was here for one reason only. He’d make a damn fine politician, Marcus reckoned. Or, at the very least, his no nonsense attitude would make him feel at home among the power elite within the Church.

They had spent their time inside the Notre-Dame D’Afrique saying little unless it pertained to the building itself or to address the locals who approached them. It was a pleasant way to spend a morning. Both men had felt spiritually cleansed as they took their leave.

Now, as they made their way through the streets, Bennett asked, “When will you tell me about our case? Surely, we must have work to do. You cannot have time to amble about at your leisure when there is a soul at stake.”

“ _Amble about my leisure?_ You sound like you just stepped out of a bloody Jane Austen novel.” Marcus gave him a side glance. “Well, there’s no doubt who the ingenue is between us. Though your lovely demeanor would give me a run for my money as the taciturn male who constantly finds their paths crossing.”

“Avid reader are you?” Bennett retorted. “You find time to crack open a novel between exorcisms, Father Marcus?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” he admitted with little remorse. “I prefer charcoal and the proper canvas.”

“You’re an artist!” Bennett never would have guessed the tall, lanky man beside him with his holier than thou air would have a creative soul.

Marcus grinned at the sight of the priest unmoored. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I find pleasure in sketching. It relaxes me more than a book ever has.”

On his left shoulder hung his messenger bag. It was his lifeline to not only the job, but his sanity. Inside contained his wares as an exorcist, plus his current Bible of choice. Marcus had been “redacting” (his phrase) quite a bit lately and it concerned him. He had learned that the more time he spent updating the good book, the darker the times that lay ahead.

He patted it. “My life is in the bag. Heaven help me if I ever lose it.”

As if on cue, a hand came up and lifted the bag right off Marcus’ shoulder. The figure appeared to be a blur except for the height. It was a child, most likely a boy. “Oy! Get your arse back here!”

Bennett tore after the thief like a shot. He didn’t think twice as he followed the boy down the narrow streets — left, right, right, left, left, under a rolled up rug carried overhead by two men, left into a restaurant and straight out the kitchen door, left, right — until the priest lost him.

He wandered around a bit more until he accepted his defeat. It wasn’t as easy as he had thought to make his way back to Marcus. In his zeal to catch the urchin, Bennett had lost track of the path he took. It was another half-hour before he found the dark blond, sitting at a café table outside with his bag at his feet.

His blood began to boil and his breathing, already labored from his exertion in chasing down the alleged thief, became rougher. Bennett’s eyes didn’t merely widen, they bulged. With the added bonus of his nostrils flaring, he had a fairly good idea of what it must be like for a horse.

“You sonofabitch.”

Marcus smiled, rising when he caught sight of him. He grabbed his bag and slung it crossbody over his shoulder. “Good. You’re back. What an excellent day for an exorcism.”


	11. Chapter 11

They congregated in Mouse’s room once they returned to the motel. Tomas had tried to get Marcus to lay down for a bit first, but the older man had refused. The sooner they sorted through what they learned, the sooner he could relax.

Maybe. Marcus wasn’t convinced he would ever be able to undo the tension that had gathered in his neck and shoulders. That house would haunt him until his dying day. Of that, he was certain.

Inside her room, Mouse tossed her jacket onto one of the beds and pulled sticky notes and a couple notebooks out of her messenger bag. Marcus didn’t have the monopoly on them, she had noted wryly when she bought it. It had mildly annoyed her at the time that she was following in his footsteps, but she really did like the bag.

Mouse tossed a pad of sticky notes each to Marcus and Tomas, while keeping one for herself. Next, came the pens. She flipped open one of the notebooks, just in case. “Okay. One at a time, we should walk through what we learned today. Marcus, you start.”

He nodded in response, pen in one hand and eyes on the small pad in the other.

Tomas put a hand on Marcus’ back. “Tomarte tu tiempo, cariño. No hay apuro.”

Rubbing the small of his boyfriend’s back, he pressed his lips against the other man’s temple. Then, he rested his head against the spot.

“The house looks so normal both inside and out,” Marcus began. “It’s not till you go looking for evil do you find it.”

“What did you find, Marcus?” Mouse asked. She saw what little color that had been restored drain from his face. The ashen skin that remained chilled her blood. Whatever Marcus had experienced, it had left its mark.

“Ghosts,” he replied, “... and death. So much death.”

The haunted look in Marcus’ now pale blue eyes made Tomas’ heart tighten in his chest. Would his love ever get the brightness back in them? Or lose the ghoulish appearance that had settled on him?

“Actual ghosts?” Tomas inquired. He doubted it, but the question alone forced him to stay in the moment. This was where he was needed. Not in some _what if_ fantasy in his head.

“Who am I to say?” Marcus pondered. After a moment, the corner of his mouth quirked. “No Casper sightings. Sorry.”

Tomas exhaled. There was the man he adored. He was still in there, fighting his way back. He shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time, we _all_ go in together,” Mouse told them both. “None of this lone wolf bullshit. I told you both this. We stick together. That’s how we survive.”

Marcus looked up at her, remorse on his features. Not as much as she might want him to feel, however. “I was meant to go alone, my little church mouse. What I experienced might never have happened if we had gone in there together. What I _found_ on the other hand, would have been discovered regardless.”

This is where the differences between Tomas and Mouse were at its starkest. He wanted to know what Marcus had experienced in the Roosevelt house. She wanted to know what he had found.

Mouse was faster. “What did you find?” she asked, kneeling before him.

Her mind reeled at the possibilities. When Marcus told them about the bodies in the basement, her jaw dropped. She crossed herself before speaking. “Jesus. How many do you think were down there? How _long_ do you think they had been down there?”

He shook his head. “From the stench, I would say a couple weeks at least; probably longer. As for the number…” 

Marcus closed his eyes as the horrific image of the floor of naked, bloodied bodies appeared inside his lids. Their odor filled his nostrils and tickled the back of his throat until he pushed Mouse aside and ran for the bathroom.

Nothing came out as he flipped up the toilet seat and sank to his knees. He dry heaved for a few seconds, which oddly helped. Sitting on his heels, Marcus looked up as Tomas entered. 

He ran a washcloth under the cold water tap for a few seconds. After wringing it out, Tomas joined his partner on the tiled floor. The washcloth was applied to Marcus’ clammy forehead before it was put to his nape.

“Thank you, luv. You’re too good to me.” He caressed Tomas’ cheek, smiling when his lover leaned into the touch.

“You’d do the same for me,” Tomas told him. “You have. How many times have my visions taken me down? Our night on the picnic table wasn’t that long ago.”

“Christ. So much has happened since I’ve been back. It feels like it’s been months, not weeks.” Marcus removed his partner’s hand from his neck, handing the washcloth back to him. “Think I can get a refill?”

Tomas smiled and kissed him. As he stood, Mouse appeared in the doorway.

“You okay?”

Marcus nodded. “Better. At least a dozen bodies down there. Maybe closer to two dozen. Thinking they may be gone before we go back.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Yeah, probably. I’m sorry you had to see that. It must have been really gnarly to get that reaction from you.”

Turning from the sink, washcloth temporarily forgotten, Tomas watched as Marcus made himself more comfortable.

He slid away from the toilet until his back hit the tub. Bending a leg and resting an arm on his knee, the dark blond told her the truth. “I prayed for every last one of those souls lost, young and old alike. I pray now that neither of you ever have to witness such evil.”

  
  
  
  


A couple hours later, they had written down everything that had happened in the past few days. Sticky notes filled the mirror above the television stand. Each had either an event, a quote or the name of someone. Tomas quipped it looked like one of those walls people in movies make when they're tracking a serial killer.

“That’s basically what we’re doing,” Mouse pointed out. “Bennett is responsible for each one of those bodies in that basement. Which brings us to why?”

“Vocare pulvere?” Marcus posited. 

Latin for the ceremony of ash, the ritual featured an urn of demonic remains where the ashes were invoked to possess a human acolyte in order to do the Devil’s work.

“Only the host rejected the entity?” Marcus continued. “He could be trying to build an army. Start small, then spread like a virus. Insert your own Catholic Church joke here.”

He had his sense of humor back, which was a good sign. Even Mouse smiled at his caustic remark.

“It would make sense,” Tomas agreed. “It’s a smart strategy and it would mean they could stay under the radar.”

“Yeah, but that’s what they’ve _been_ doing. And it doesn’t explain the significance of the house. Why go to all the trouble to get the Roosevelt house back under demonic control only to pack up after a few weeks or months?”

A thought occurred to Marcus. “You don’t think…?”

Mouse looked at him blankly. Then, it dawned on her what he was getting at. “Ohmigod.”

It took Tomas a bit longer to catch on, but that was mostly because he refused to believe it was even possible. “The Devil? The _actual_ Devil. Here in small-town America.”

“Where better than in the last place anyone would look?” Marcus volleyed. “Everyone would have their eyes on the Vatican, Rome, New York, London, Paris. But Preston, Pennsylvania? Come on. It’s brilliant.”

“If it’s real,” Mouse countered. “We’re just hypothesizing. We need more intel on that house.” She extended her hand to Marcus. “Give me your phone so I can send myself those photos of the basement.”

“I’ll get them to you later, it’s not a rush.”

“It will take two minutes. Don’t worry, I won’t look at the smutty photos the two of you took.” She gestured impatiently with her fingers for him to hand it over.

Reluctantly, he did. Marcus caught Tomas watching him. He knew there would be questions later. That was fine. Better his boyfriend than Sarah Connor. It was a relief when Mouse handed back his phone without a word. If she had seen the photos from the ghost room upstairs, she kept it to herself.

“Oh, you have an email. I saw the notification when I was working on the photos.”

He checked his phone and sure enough, there was an email from his new friend, Blue. The sender was an Agatha Tortorella, which threw him for a moment. Seeing the subject line brought him up to speed: “Roosevelt House — OPEN IF YOU DARE.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Marcus opened the email. Tomas joined him on the edge of the bed, resting his chin on his partner’s shoulder. He placed a hand on the mattress behind Marcus to support himself.

“Is this from your new girlfriend?” he asked, voice brimming with curiosity. “You’re going to have to choose between us because I won’t share.”

Marcus smiled. “That’s why it will always be you. I crave your attention too much.”

Tomas teethed at his boyfriend’s shoulder, then put his chin back where it was. “Ditto, querido.”

With a loving squeeze of his partner’s thigh, Marcus returned to the email.

_“Hey, Marcus!_

_So, here’s the weird thing. I can’t get you that list of owners like I promised. I checked with my boss and she didn’t understand it either. Our system says there should be all of the paperwork, but the physical file only goes back thirty years._

_What I sent you isn’t much, but hopefully you can find something of use. Stop by the historical society tomorrow between eleven and four. They may be able to help you._

_I’m so sorry I couldn’t deliver like I promised. Good luck!_

_Blue”_

“Bad news?” Mouse had been watching him as he read the email.

“Blue can’t get us the complete list of owners because the paperwork is missing. Even her boss thinks something’s wrong. Blue sent us the owners for the last thirty years. It’s not much, but probably worth a look just the same.”

“She also suggested stopping by the historical society tomorrow,” Tomas chimed in. “Marcus and I could do that or I could go alone.”

Mouse raised an eyebrow. “One adventure with me was enough for you, huh? Love has made you soft.”

“When are you seeing your friend from last night?” he shot back. “Or have you already seen her today?”

She narrowed eyes at him as Marcus interceded. “What’s her name? How did you two meet?”

Sitting on the television stand, Mouse exhaled and rolled her eyes. “Her name is Lara Miller. She’s an arson investigator and we met at one of those beer gardens this town loves so much.”

“What about John Mitchum?” Tomas asked with a sly smile.

With a shrug, she replied, “What about him? He seems nice. Might take him up on that coffee, see if I can't get anything else out of him.”

“Just be careful,” Marcus warned before adding, “and enjoy yourself while you can.”

He saw this as a good time to go their separate ways for now. A lie down, if not an actual nap, appealed to him after the afternoon he had. A quick glance at Tomas told him they were on the same page.

As they were about to leave, Tomas remembered he wanted to get Mouse’s take on Meg Jemson. More importantly, did she have God’s ear, too?

“No,” Mouse confirmed what he had suspected. “She’s definitely got a bead on the situation though. That woman is more in tune than most of the non-habit wearing mothers I’ve come across. Halley won’t be going anywhere near the Roosevelt place again. Meg will see to that.”

  
  
  
  


When they got back to their room, Tomas grabbed Marcus’ wrist and pulled him into his arms. He captured his mouth in a claiming kiss, licking his way inside. Their tongues had just begun to dance when he heard a thud. It was Marcus’ black leather messenger bag falling off his shoulder and hitting the floor.

Tomas didn’t miss a beat. He slid his hands around his lover’s face, holding it in his hands as he continued exploring Marcus’ mouth. The way he tasted only made Tomas want more. No food or drink tasted as good as his boyfriend. When they broke the kiss, he nibbled on the dark blond’s bottom lip before finally letting it go.

They stood there in the semi-dark as the late afternoon sun filtered in through the partially open blinds on the windows. Someone could easily walk by and see two men making out. _Let them_ , Tomas thought. _We have nothing to hide._

As if he could read his thoughts, Marcus commented with a sly grin, “We’re putting on quite a show. Should we give the people what they want?”

A smile broke out on Tomas’ face. “Screw the people. I prefer to fuck my boyfriend in private.”

“The mouth on you!” Those blue eyes were bright despite the irises being mostly blown. “I really am a bad influence on you.”

“Sorry. I was distracted by the mouth on _you_.” To prove his point, he stole another kiss. He cocked his head as if deciding whether to give in to temptation. Pulling back, so he could see the man in front of him, he asked, “How are you, baby?”

Marcus sighed. “Well, that was fun while it lasted.”

He left the close proximity of the man he loved to shrug off his jacket, which he placed on the television stand. He ran a hand over his head, scratching the back of it while his other hand rested on his hip.

“I’ve been better. I’ve also been a hell of a lot worse.” There was a quirk of the lips. “Being with you helps.”

Tomas sat at the foot of their bed across from him, having discarded his own jacket on the other bed. “So what else happened at the house? You said something about ghosts?”

The first instinct Marcus had were really two. Simultaneously, he wanted to tell Tomas he wasn’t being literal and tell him the truth. He opted for the latter as it quickly became the prevailing option.

“You think it was Bennett,” the younger man said when Marcus had finished recounting his experience upstairs at the Roosevelt house. “But how? You and I both know that’s not how possession works.”

Marcus shrugged, his arms now crossed over his chest. “How did I see him in the diner bathroom? He shouldn’t be doing this, _if_ he’s doing anything. I could be going insane. You’ll have to put me back where you found me.”

“You never belonged at St. Aquinas,” Tomas observed bitterly as he rose. “Not then and not now.”

“I _was_ broken, Tomas. You saw what happened in Mexico City with Gabriel. No one could have come out of that intact.” 

The boy’s death after integrating with a demon had been one of the defining moments of Marcus’ career. He stepped forward taking his partner’s face in his hands. The hair of his beard soft under his careworn fingers. “I was perfectly happy to sit there and rot until you, my beautiful boy, blew in and made me see sense.”

“Well, you’re not broken now.” On this, Tomas was adamant. 

With a loving smile, Marcus agreed. “No, I am not. Thank you for listening to me and believing me.”

A look of surprise crossed Tomas’ face. “I will always listen to you, Marcus. I will always believe you.”

Staring deep into his boyfriend’s hazel eyes, the older man knew this was true. “And I will do the same for you.” He glanced at the blinds. “I believe there was talk of a show….”

“I’ll get the blinds. You get the lube,” Tomas told him.

It wasn’t long before both items had been handled and they were naked. Marcus sat on the television stand, his jacket shoved aside, with his legs spread wide. “Take me here. I want to christen this room right.”

Tomas slid between his lover’s muscled thighs and with a single thrust had bottomed out. Their moans as he entered Marcus were only the beginning. “You feel so good,” he admitted. His thick, hard cock enveloped in his lover’s tight heat. There was nothing else like it.

“Nice and rough,” Marcus told him. “Remind me who I belong to, luv.”

This was just what he needed: for Tomas to claim him; for the day to just fade away as Tomas fucked him until he was a blissed out mess. Oh, he was so needy right now.

Taking his time to start, Tomas pulled out a bit and pushed back in. He nuzzled Marcus’ chest and neck, those sinewy arms holding him close. His hands ran up and down his lover’s thighs. It was only a matter of time before they were wrapped around his waist.

He brushed his lips against Marcus’. Then, he pulled out until just the tip was inside and slammed himself back in, penetrating him fully. The guttural moan that came from Marcus as he threw his head back unleashed something feral inside Tomas.

Again and again, his thick cock breached the older man. He fucked Marcus like they were two animals in heat, leaving his mark on Marcus’ skin and inside him. His lover encouraged him throughout.

“Yes, Tomas, yes. That’s it, luv. Just like that. Oh, Tomas.”

Marcus chanted his name. It fell from his lips as easily as any prayer.

They were both close. Neither of them needed to announce it. At this moment, they were one. Chasing the orgasm that was eluding them, but not for long.

“Take yourself in hand,” Tomas instructed.

The older man did as he was told, stroking his hard, leaking cock. As much as Tomas was pounding into Marcus, the dark blond was meeting him with the same intensity. After what they had been through today, they needed this release as bad as they needed each other.

When it came, it was as hard and fast as Tomas’ thrusts had been. He pumped his release inside Marcus, who took it readily. Marcus’ cock spilled its cum all over his hand and onto his own stomach. Tomas licked it all up, sucking it off the pale skin when necessary.

Watching his boy take in his seed, Marcus half-expected to orgasm again. He didn’t, but his cock twitched when Tomas licked the remaining cum off the head. His eyes never left Marcus’ as he cleaned him up.

Pulling him up for a post-coital kiss, he could taste himself on Tomas’ tongue. “It’s a sin how good we are together.”

“I will happily live in sin with you, querido.” Tomas picked him up, Marcus’ legs wrapped around his waist, and took him to bed.

  
  
  
  
  


No sooner had Marcus and Tomas left, Mouse opened the email Marcus had forwarded her from Blue Tortorella on her laptop. She settled herself into a chair at the table near the window with one of Meg Jemson’s brownies and a bottle of water. Slowly, she scrolled through the names in the attachment. All were male Roosevelts.

In a separate tab, she cross-checked the names against a list of deceased residents and all were accounted for except Christopher Roosevelt. The home’s last owner prior to Bennett’s acquisition had gone off-grid — perhaps permanently. There was no record of him anywhere. He was just gone.

As she took a bite of her brownie, Mouse wondered if he was among the pile of bodies Marcus had discovered in the basement of the house. More than likely. If he wasn’t, then where the hell had he ended up? Just what this case needed: More questions.

She looked up at her serial killer board. It all seemed to trace back to that damn house. The carnival had been the outlier. Bennett showing off for her benefit. So focused had she been on trailing him, she had never considered the consequences of her hubris. It was on her shoulders where the deaths and injuries of those in attendance lay. 

Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her neck. The pain was gone even though the mark remained. Neither Halley Louise nor her mom had mentioned it. Halley Louise because she either got the lowdown from the Man upstairs or she didn’t want to be rude. Meg had been caught out more than once staring at it, but couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Mouse clicked back to Blue’s email. The young woman had included her contact information as part of her signature. Mouse punched in the number and extension on her phone. It rang a few times before someone picked up.

“Wyeth County Property Tax Assessor’s Office. Agatha Tortorella speaking,” she answered brightly.

“Hi, Blue. It’s Mouse. We met this morning? I’m friends with Marcus Keane.” 

There was no way of telling how many people filed through the office on any given day. Not everyone noticed Mouse, but everyone noticed Marcus. It was both a blessing and a curse. Even he agreed.

“Oh, hey! Nice to hear from you, Mouse. Did Marcus get my email?”

She took a swig of water before replying. “Yes. He forwarded it to me. I was just reading the list. You weren’t kidding when you said it was a sausage fest. Those poor women who had the misfortune of being born into that family.”

“I know,” Blue replied sadly. “It’s tragic. Not to be a bitch, but I’m just wrapping things up here before we close for the day. Was there something I could help you with?”

Mouse checked the time on her computer. “Shit. Sorry. I was thinking you were open till six. I should have done my research. I’ll make this quick.”

“It’s okay. We close at five. Perks of a government job,” Blue giggled. “What do you want to know?”

“Have you heard of anything weird about the Roosevelt house or the land itself? Folklore. Old wives’ tales.” Mouse rolled her eyes. “Supernatural stories.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. She started thinking the line went dead when Blue spoke. 

“Agnes Butcher.”

“Who?” Mouse grabbed a pen and one of the sticky notepads, writing down the name.

“I mentioned the city’s historical society in my email,” she reminded her. “She’s one of the volunteers. Knows that hell house like no other. She should be in tomorrow. Anything I can tell you comes from her. You’d be better off hearing it straight from the source.”

“Great. Thank you, Blue.” Mouse waited a beat before adding, “I really appreciate this. You have no idea.”

“You’re welcome,” she said warmly. Her tone grew more serious with what she said next. “Whatever the reason for your guys’ interest in that place, I hope you’re careful. There have been rumblings of people disappearing lately. I can’t help but think that maybe it’s connected to the new owner of the house.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For hundreds of years, this has been a quiet town despite its size. Don’t let the city designation fool you. Everyone thinks of Preston as a small town. It’s not crime free, but it’s not Philly either. Within a month, the missing persons rate is up enough to make the Philly news stations and every paper in the region, including the Inquirer.”

Philadelphia was approximately a ninety-minute drive from Preston.

“Exactly the same amount of time as Devon Bennett has been living in that house. That’s a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

Despite herself, Mouse smiled. “Your talents are wasted in that office.”

“I know,” she admitted. “Everyone tells me the same thing, but it pays the bills and isn’t as boring as you might think. Especially now.” 

They hung up a minute later. Mouse took another bite of her brownie when she remembered Lara said she would call. Might as well beat her to the punch.

“Good. You’re alive. I was just thinking about you,” Lara told her.

Mouse didn’t know how to react to that. No one ever thought about her except for Marcus and Tomas — and not like that. “Yeah, nothing to worry about. You still at work?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I’m going to be here for another few hours. Don’t suppose you’d be up for company around 8 or so?”

The corner of Mouse’s mouth quirked. She liked the idea of ending this weird ass day in Lara’s arms, preferably in her bed. “Give me your address. I’ll come to you.”

“I was actually looking forward to that lumpy mattress of yours,” Lara teased. “The other bed might be better, you know. We didn’t try it out last night.”

A quick glance at the serial killer board and Mouse knew they would never have the opportunity. “A real mattress with some bounce in its springs will be so much more fun.”

She couldn’t believe she was flirting. The last time she had done that with anyone was … a long time ago when she was just a girl doe-eyed over a fetching priest with shoulder-length blond hair.

“Oh, baby,” Lara purred. “You know how to give me incentive to get through this report.”

“Right. The carnival.” Mouse desperately wanted to know what it said, but knew better than to ask over an open line. Maybe Lara would be willing to share later? She was talkative last night. Especially after the beer garden. “I’ll let you get to it. Text me your address and when I should meet you.”

“I’ll send it as soon as I hang up,” Lara assured her. “I really can’t wait to see you, Mouse.”

“I really can’t wait to see you, too.”

And to Mouse’s surprise, she meant it.


	12. Chapter 12

The supple flesh beneath his fingers was warm to the touch. Tracing the muscles of his lover’s back all the way down to the waist, Marcus mouthed the small spot; his tongue sweeping the area.

This elicited a shiver from Tomas as he lay on his stomach, skin raising with goosebumps. He moaned his approval. His lips curved into a smile when he felt his lover’s hand glide over the swell of his ass. Marcus treating him as though inspiration would strike from the tactile observation of the younger man’s toned body.

Tomas had thought this would go a different way after his forceful domination over Marcus at his boyfriend’s behest. However, the dark blond had opted for a softer approach. One that Tomas would not object to as he was enjoying it quite a bit.

“So beautiful.” 

There was awe in Marcus’ voice. That happened a lot, Tomas noted. Not that he minded. He tended to fawn over his partner’s own beauty. Marcus would blush and tell him he needed to get his eyes checked, but Tomas would make sure the man knew what he said was true.

When Marcus drank him in like this, Tomas felt seen and loved in ways he never thought were possible. Poets wrote about these things, but Tomas never believed anyone would appreciate him in this way. It was why he never hesitated to tell Marcus in words, in a look, in a gesture just what he meant to him.

A single finger ran down between his ass cheeks. “Shall I explore further?”

“Yes,” Tomas breathed, spreading his legs.

Marcus positioned himself so he was sitting between his lover’s thighs. He kissed each cheek, massaging them one at a time.

“Ass massages are highly underrated,” the dark-haired man purred. His insides were soft and charged at the same time. _Amazing._

There was a soft chuckle from Marcus. “Feel free to return the favor some time.”

“Okay.” The word was barely past his lips when a moan barreled through.

His cheeks had been separated by a pair of firm hands. Marcus had opted to put his mouth to better use than talking. He teased Tomas’ entrance with the tip of his tongue, pushing in slightly.

Tomas gripped the fitted sheet he lay upon, already aching for Marcus to do more. “Such a tease,” he breathed out somewhat bitterly.

For that, he got a slap on the ass. 

“Yes, please,” he begged. “Such a bad boy.”

“I’ll decide that.” 

The warm breath in his ear mixed with Marcus’ husky voice, which had dropped an octave, had precum spilling beneath him. His hard cock leaked onto both him and the sheet as it was sandwiched between them. 

“Yes, sir.”

A second slap hit his ass. “Now behave or I won’t let you come.”

This was new. Tomas’ heart skipped a beat. He swallowed the urge to say, _Promise?_ For now, the guarantee of an orgasm trumped his curiosity.

Tomas raised himself onto his forearms, chancing a backward glance to see what Marcus was doing. He was rewarded with a deep kiss before the tongue that danced with his own penetrated him lower down.

Ass lifted so Marcus could have better access, Tomas resisted thrusting in case it resulted in that orgasm denial. He bowed his head as his boyfriend worked his hole with both tongue and fingers till it ached for something more substantive.

A quivering, needy mess was what Tomas had been reduced to and he loved it. Marcus had come so far in such a short time. The younger man later wondered if his partner had been getting pointers online or if he was just intuitive. He had a feeling it was the latter and said another silent prayer for being blessed with such an amazing man.

“ _Marcus, please_ ,” he begged. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you inside me.”

The intrusion ceased. Tomas flipped himself over as Marcus landed on the mattress beside him a few seconds later. He quickly scrambled on top of him and lined up Marcus’ cock, slick with precum and lube. Sinking down onto him until he bottomed out, Tomas moaned as his body welcomed the cock like an old friend.

He grinned, abstractly thinking about the lube he had Marcus fetch before they started. “God, you feel amazing. Perfect fit.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth, luv.”

Tomas leaned down and brushed his lips against his lover’s. “That’s not the only thing I want from your mouth.”

Marcus responded enthusiastically, parting his lips to allow Tomas’ tongue entrance. The slow tango that followed had Marcus moaning into the younger man’s mouth. Just when he had gotten a satisfactory taste, it disappeared.

Breaking the kiss in favor of getting a good rhythm going, Tomas rose and fell onto Marcus’ cock. His hands gripped his boyfriend’s pectorals, fingers digging in when a well-aimed thrust from Marcus grazed his prostate.

He nodded to the other man, who fell in step with Tomas’ movements. The next time his cock did more than brush against that sweet spot. It struck it full on, sending a spike of arousal through Tomas. 

Now that he knew where to hit, Marcus could enjoy the view. He loved watching his man ride him. Tomas looked so damn happy every time he was up there. Marcus pushed himself up. In no time, Tomas had his legs wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist.

Almost as if to see how far they could take it, Marcus rose to knees as he continued to fuck Tomas. He slid his hands under the other man’s ass to keep him in position. They were close now to the edge.

“So good you are. My beautiful boy.”

Tomas whimpered in response, one arm around Marcus’ shoulders. His fingers gripped the short, dark blond hair as he rode himself to completion. He captured his partner’s mouth in a sloppy kiss just before his orgasm hit.

Marcus never stopped thrusting while Tomas came. The other man’s release hit their stomachs as Tomas’ cock was pressed between their bodies.

When it was Marcus’ turn, Tomas made sure to return the favor. He rode his man until the last of his seed had emptied into Tomas.

Panting once they had finished, they collided into a kiss filled with yearning, passion and love. Marcus sank down, never pulling away. He let Tomas push them both onto the bed. Only after Marcus’ cock was soft did they break apart.

With a grunt, Tomas rolled off his boyfriend. They lay side by side for a few minutes in complete silence. Their entangled fingers were the only physical connection.

Tomas eventually moved. He grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, making sure to wet it first.

“I could have done that for you,” Marcus argued.

“I’ve become quite good at cleaning up my messes,” he retorted with a smile.

They kissed lazily as Tomas wiped down Marcus’ chest. The dark blond took the cloth and ran it over his lover’s torso. Then, he threw it in the direction of the bathroom and pulled Tomas into his arms.

“You were wonderful,” Marcus praised. “Thank you.”

A hum came from Tomas. He nuzzled his boyfriend’s neck before laying his head on his chest. “So were you, cariño. You’re welcome.” His hand ran over Marcus’ chest and side. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll always need that from you.”

“My pleasure, luv.” Marcus pressed his lips against the crown of Tomas’ head. “I feel the same.”

It was several minutes before Tomas spoke again. Marcus thought he had dozed off. The sound of his voice took him by surprise.

“Tell me about the house. Tell me what you wouldn’t tell Mouse.”

With a fortifying breath, Marcus launched into his story. He left out nothing as there was nothing he didn’t want Tomas to know. 

“Can I see the Bible?”

“Go on. It’s in my bag.”

Tomas found it right where Marcus said. He stood there in all his glory flipping through the pages. “It looks like one of yours,” he said with a grin.

Marcus snorted. “I’m not nearly as flowery.”

The only response he received was a raised eyebrow. Tomas stopped turning pages. His eyes were fixed on one of the drawings.

“Tomas?” Marcus walked over to him. “What is it?”

He glanced at the older man. “Where’s your book? The one you were working on this morning when I came in from my trip with Mouse?”

Looking around, he saw it on the edge of the television stand behind him. Tomas walked over toward the bathroom where the light was better. He put both books down next to each other.

“You both drew the same building,” he pointed out to Marcus, who looked over Tomas’ shoulder. “I _knew_ there was something familiar about that building. Do you see it?”

Marcus was at a loss. “Not really. I mean, I guess they kind of look alike....”

Tomas turned to his partner. “They look alike because it’s the same place. One you should know better than any of us.”

It took a few more seconds of staring at the sketches for the penny to drop. “St. Aquinas.”

  
  
  
  


It was after eight when Mouse pulled into the driveway of the small red house with black shutters and a gray slate roof. The residences on this end of town were newer than the ones in the neighborhood of the Roosevelt house and the Jemson’s, but still not as new as the string of developments she passed en route.

Those in this section were merely decades old. Mouse guessed they were built in the nineteen seventies. However, the properties were well maintained and the area appeared safe enough. The drive allowed her to see more of the city than she had previously — and she thought she had seen everything during her earlier tours.

Lara greeted her with a smile, pulling Mouse into the house and kissing her as she closed the door. “Been wanting to do that since you left me at the diner.”

Mouse smiled. The look in her eyes lustful as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “I’ve been wanting to do a lot more than that.”

“Oh, have you now?” Lara nibbled on that lip, getting a soft moan from her lover. “What _have_ you been thinking of?”

“You. All of you. That face you make when you come. The smile that follows.” Mouse captured the other woman’s mouth, licking those lips and sucking on the bottom one. She grinned when she earned a moan from Lara.

“Act of God.” 

The brunette pulled back, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a position you want to do? Because that sounds like fun.”

She half-expected to be struck by lightning at the blasphemy.

“It’s what the insurance is calling the incident at the carnival,” Lara explained. “The investigation declared it an accident. Arson was ruled out. There are no signs anything was out of place when the fire happened. No clear explanation can be found.”

This was not unexpected. The speediness of the results was, however. Being the sole witness to what started the blaze in the first place, Mouse hardly expected there to be evidence of demonic influence. At least now, the community can move on from this nightmare.

Mouse felt Lara’s eyes on her as she processed this new information. “What?”

“You’re not surprised.” She let her go and moved a few steps back into the living room. “Care to explain why this is?”

“You said as much when we met.” Mouse shrugged. “I see we’ve moved on to the interrogation portion of the evening. This was fun while it lasted.”

She turned to go, hand on the doorknob, when Lara took her by the elbow and pulled around to face her.

“Where are you going?” The ginger wasn’t angry, just confused. “I’m not interrogating you. I’m trying to find out more about you. You were there that night. That much I know. I also now know you saw it happen. What don’t I know?”

Mouse sighed. A sadness washed over her. This wasn’t going to end well. Not that she expected to get a happily ever after. Just a few days with a smart, funny, sexy woman before disappearing from her life forever.

“So much,” she said softly. “It’s safer if you don’t know. I really shouldn’t be here. I was stupid to think I could have something nice. Sorry.”

“Don’t go!”

The heartbreak in Lara’s voice sliced through Mouse. Her hand froze inches from the doorknob. She didn’t know what to do. Her head and heart were locked in a battle and she was convinced they doomed no matter which won out.

“Talk to me, Mouse. _Please._ ”

Did she tell her the truth? Would she even be believed if she did? If she did, what would that even mean? These questions and the limited possibilities they projected swirled in Mouse’s head. She closed her eyes, willing them to cease and desist. They did. It was then she noticed her other hand was enclosed in both of Lara’s.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at the woman who had navigated her way through her defenses in less than twenty-four hours. How was that even possible? Mouse had managed to keep others at a distance with no trouble for years. She never saw Lara coming.

She opened her mouth, but Lara cut her off.

“Is this connected to that guy who’s living in the Roosevelt house? When I described him to you this morning, you went white as a sheet. You know him. Did he hurt you?” Eyes wide, she ran a finger over the rope mark on Mouse’s neck. “Is this him?”

Damn, she was good at her job. Mouse was blown away at her perceptiveness. The way Lara put the puzzle together so effortlessly was seriously impressive. She found herself at a loss for words. “Yes,” was the only thing she could think of to say.

Lara pulled her into a hug, which Mouse accepted. The fight had left her. She just wanted to stay in her lover’s arms for as long as possible.

For Lara, it had the opposite effect. She wanted to protect this fierce yet damaged woman. Part of her wanted to track down the man who attacked her friend, her lover. The voice in her head that warned her when she thought of doing dangerous things told her this was not her fight. 

Whatever Mouse’s world was, Lara was a guest. She could be in her corner, but her intuition told her that to step into the ring would be a mistake. Not for the first time, Lara listened to her instincts. A long time ago, she had learned the hard way what happened when she ignored them.

“Let’s go to bed, baby. I just want to hold you. That’s all.”

Mouse nodded, burying her face in Lara’s neck. She could faintly smell the body spray the woman used this morning after showering. Beneath that, Lara’s scent greeted her nose and she inhaled deeply. A wave of contentment and peace washed over her. 

She pulled back to gaze into the face of the woman who would take care of her for as long as she wanted. No more questions would be asked tonight.

“I want to be with you. I-I need you.”

Lara smiled warmly, running a hand down along Mouse’s hairline until it caressed her cheek. “I know you do, baby. You have me. You have me.”

  
  
  
  


Marcus sat at the table in the motel room staring at the drawings in the two books with awe and utter fascination. Had Bennett drawn the one in the Bible? Was that even possible? He would have had to have taken control without the demon’s knowledge. That was insanity. Once the demon takes the wheel it doesn’t let go until the bitter end. Either it gets cast out or you both do.

He couldn’t get over how they both had drawn St. Aquinas. If it had been Bennett. Marcus cast his mind back to recall if his friend had ever visited him there. He didn’t think so, but then it occurred to him. Bennett had been round to pay his respects. It was in the early days of his stay. 

The visit had been brief as the younger man could barely stand to be in the same room as Marcus, let alone be in that sad place. As he thought more on it, Marcus remembered they had argued. No. It was worse than that. Bennett had attempted to get him to engage, but the older man just sat at his desk sketching on paper with a piece of charcoal between his thumb and forefinger.

Eventually, Bennett gave up and left him to it. The next time Marcus saw him, it was in Chicago. He had just confirmed to Marcus that the older man had been excommunicated. Just like that, the Church had washed its hands of him. 

The Church may have cut ties, but God had not. It seemed to Marcus that the Lord hadn’t given up on Bennett either. Integration be damned. 

Tomas came over after watching his lover from their bed for the past hour. Marcus had told him the flowers used in the Bible drawing were the same ones that had been planted at the home. He had even sketched them himself on occasion.

“Particularly in spring when they bloomed,” his voice wistful. “I don’t miss the place, but the flowers were nice.”

Mostly, he had just sat in contemplative silence and Tomas let him. Now, he massaged Marcus’ shoulders and pressed his lips to the top of his head.

“What are you thinking about?” Tomas could guess, but he preferred to hear it from him.

“Bennett. He drew this.” Marcus pointed at a floral sketch of St. Aquinas. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But he did.”

He leaned back so his head was against Tomas’ chest. “What the hell is going on? I’m asking because I don’t have a sodding clue. Oh, that feels good.”

Tomas smiled briefly. “Bennett is fighting. He knows whatever is happening is not good and is trying to tell you. It may not make any sense, but when you factor in what happened with Mouse and what you’ve experienced….”

“It kind of does. Ohhhh. Bloody hell, you have magic fingers.”

“And you carry all your tension in your shoulders,” Tomas admonished. “I knew that without laying a finger on you.”

“But I love it when you lay _all_ your fingers on me … and in me,” Marcus replied cheekily, gazing up at him.

“I know you, querido. The feeling is mutual.” Tomas continued working on his boyfriend, using both hands on one shoulder to work out the kinks. “But how can Bennett haunt you? He’s not a ghost — assuming you believe in such things.”

“In our line of work, we’d be remiss to open our minds to demons, but say ghosts don’t exist. As for the other … I don’t know. Maybe he’s getting a heavenly assist?”

Tomas’ hands stopped moving. “You think God is—. What’s the term?” He thought for a moment. “Boosting Bennett’s signal? He would never get your attention otherwise.”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” Marcus admitted, looking at the sketches again. “Don’t stop, luv, please. That massage of yours is just what I need.”

Tipping the other man’s head back, Tomas kissed him. Then, he resumed loosening the tension in Marcus. “So what’s next? They have our attention.”

“Whatever it is will be big.” A moan flew past his lips.

“You don’t think he’ll show up here, do you?” Tomas cast a quick glance at the room door, making sure it was locked.

Marcus chuckled. “No. Big Bad Bennett won’t dare show his face here.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “But he _will_ show up soon.”

“That house,” Tomas remarked.

“What about it?”

“What if it’s not the house, but the land. Like it was an old Indian burial ground or something.”

The speed with which Marcus turned in his chair took Tomas by surprise. 

“You may be on to something. It’s too late to check with Blue. We could order some food and do an online search.” He grinned. “I know how much you enjoy our date nights.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Tomas said, smiling. “But if we’re getting food delivered we should get dressed.”

Marcus sighed. “Such a prude.”

  
  
  
  
  


“I owe someone a debt.” Mouse lay naked in bed, her head on the pillow next to Lara’s foot. They were on opposite ends of the mattress after their lovemaking.

A sheen of perspiration coated them; the dim light making their bodies glisten. Their skin was slick to the touch, but sweet on the tongue. They had tasted each other inside and out. 

Fingers had slid over and under. Mouths had sucked. Teeth had nipped and nibbled. 

Nipples were teased. Asses were caressed. Legs were opened. Hips were canted. Backs were arched.

Moans had escaped between parted lips. Orgasms were achieved multiple times.

Now, bodies sore yet satisfied, they were too tired to move. Talking, however, seemed doable.

“What kind of debt?” Lara’s mind raced with possibilities. Her fingers lazily traced patterns along Mouse’s leg.

“The life kind. It’s why I’m here.” She smiled softly, watching Lara caress her knee.

A gentle smile of her own spread across the redhead’s lips. “How will you pay this debt?”

It was a few seconds before Mouse answered. “By either saving his life or his soul.”

Lara’s fingers stopped moving. Her emerald green eyes fixed on her lover’s brown irises. “You may have to kill him to save him.”

“Yes. Sometimes, it’s the only way.”

“In your line of work,” Lara finished.

“Yes.”

There was a small patch of silence.

“What does this have to do with the man who lives in the Roosevelt place? How does he fit in?” Lara asked.

Mouse debated how much she should tell her. She opted to stick as close to the truth as possible. It was the least the woman deserved. “He saved my life twice. The first time, I repaid him by abandoning him in favor of meeting up with other friends. He was attacked and taken. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Myriad questions swirled in Lara’s brain. She didn’t know which to ask first or even if Mouse would answer any of them; though she could see her friend was trying. So she chose to repeat her previous two questions, observing as the other woman pushed herself up into a sitting position with her back against the headboard.

There was a reason Mouse hadn’t answered the queries. It would force her to spill the beans about everything … and she wasn’t ready for that. Perhaps Lara would take it in stride. The chance she wouldn’t have her committed was a possibility. Even if it was slim. She could feel those curious eyes on her, sussing her out like a suspect in an investigation.

“The current owner of the house led me to Preston. The owner has my friend.”

Lara took in this new information as she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. She treaded carefully. “You’re not here alone though. You said last night your friends arrived. Are these the same friends who you left your other friend to go find?”

The dark brunette nodded. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, ending an inch or so below the collarbone. Even though she was naked, she had never felt so exposed. Not even back in the seminary with Marcus.

“What’s your friend like?” Lara changed tactics. She was dangerously close to scaring Mouse off and that was the last thing she wanted. “What is their name?”

“Bennett.” Mouse relaxed now the questions were easier. “He’s stubborn, smart, devoted. A good man. I hope I get the chance to get to know him better.”

With a slight effort, Lara sat up and took Mouse’s hand. “I hope you do, too. He’s lucky to have you and your friends trying to save him.”

She snorted. “You’ve obviously never met Bennett. He’s more obstinate than Marcus and that’s saying something.”

_Marcus must be one of her friends_ , Lara deduced. _He’s important to her._

This made a warm feeling spread out from her heart. She had worried that Mouse’s friends were nothing more than colleagues. The woman seemed lonely despite her tough facade. Lara had no doubt she was made of the strongest material. A kindred spirit was always easy to spot.

“I suppose it’s way too soon to meet your friends?” Her attempt at making a joke failed due to her sincerity being so transparent.

At other times, this would have been a dealbreaker for Mouse. She couldn’t be pinned down — wouldn’t be. There was no place for love in her life. A soldier shouldn’t be distracted. Look at Marcus and Tomas.

The thing was she _did_ look at them. Mouse saw how they were both each other’s weakness and strength. They were the exception. She knew that; understood that. But just maybe she could have a small piece of what they have while she was in this Pennsylvania town.

“Ugh,” she teased, rolling her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

Lara crawled over to her. “I’m also hungry.”

She wasn’t referring to food, which was good because Mouse was down to fuck. 

They shared a blistering kiss. Lara’s hands cupped her lover’s breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples. Mouse moaned into her partner’s mouth. She spread her legs as the redhead’s hand made its way down to her entrance.

Lara mirrored Mouse’s position as the dark brunette slid two fingers inside her. Simultaneously, they brought each other to climax as their mouths never left the other’s body.


	13. Chapter 13

The strains of a familiar tune called out to Marcus while he was in a deep slumber. He was barely conscious of the arms around him holding him close, though was aware on some level they were not constricting but comforting. A solid form was at his back, its warmth soothing. 

Still the notes pulled him along. A siren’s song to those lost at sea. Was he lost? No. He was safe on the shore with the man he adored more than anything. Yes. He was adrift while he searched for the man who was like a brother to him.

How could he both lost and found? Despite the gift that was the love of a wonderful man, the culpability that came from coming out the other side while another was suffering was profound. Survivor’s guilt was a bitch that Marcus didn’t have the wherewithal to put down.

His footfalls on the floor were soft. Each step absorbed into the linoleum as he moved along. Corner after corner, hallway after hallway. It was a place he knew all too well and yet couldn’t seem to get his bearings. The labyrinth of corridors threatened to swallow him whole.

There. The song was clearer than ever. He knew exactly where he was within St. Aquinas, the home for broken priests he had spent more than a year inside. This had been his hallway. He would never forget it. How could he? Back then, Marcus had assumed he would be there till the end of his days.

A peek into one of the rooms as he passed found it empty. Come to think of it, the whole place was devoid of life. Where was everyone? Surely, news of his return hadn’t run everyone off. The staff hadn’t hated him that much. Then again, he might have been a complete bear to them. No. He had been too dejected, too broken to be a bother.

The door to his old room was open. A figure sat in his chair with his back to him. The man didn’t acknowledge him. Marcus had expected as much. 

_Christ, that man can hold a grudge._

“As if you’re any better,” the man reminded him.

“You’re looking well, Bennett,” Marcus observed wryly. “Better than anticipated actually.”

The other man hummed. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

He stood, looking the same as ever. It was his eyes that gave him away. The fight that always stayed with him remained, but exhaustion was taking its toll. Bennett’s demeanor had always made him seem older than his years. Now, his body revealed the ruse.

“We don’t have much time,” the priest informed his friend. “In every respect.”

Marcus closed the gap between them, taking Bennett’s face in his hands. He gave him a proper once over and wasn’t happy with what he saw. For starters, the wince Bennett gave when his head turned to the right. There was a welt on his neck. 

Further inspection, wherein Marcus was gentle throughout, uncovered bruises and scars. None of which were fresh, but recent — within a week. He guided Bennett to the bed and they sat side by side.

“How much longer do you have?” Marcus wanted to know everything. “How have you lasted this long?”

“I don’t know is the answer to your first question. But the clock is ticking, Marcus,” he warned. “As for the second, Angela Rance.”

Confusion took over for a few seconds as Marcus tried to make out Bennett’s cryptic clue. He went back over what she had told him and Tomas while she recovered in the Chicago hospital after surviving her integration.

“You’re hiding.”

Bennett nodded. “I found a spot she will never look.”

“Here?” he asked incredulously. “I wouldn’t have even chosen this spot.” His eyes narrowed. “Why _did_ you?”

The other man said nothing, allowing Marcus time to work it out for himself.

“Because it would literally be the last place anyone would look for you,” the older man said a minute later. “Hell, you didn’t even want to be here when _I_ was here.”

“Of course not,” Bennett admitted. “It was painful seeing you here. Losing Gabriel destroyed you. You did everything you could to save that boy, but when you couldn’t, you lost yourself. I was foolish enough to think I could bring you back. When I knew that wasn’t possible, I left.

“Little did I know all it would take was a sweet young priest from Chicago to break the wicked witch’s spell,” he added sarcastically.

“Well, even Grumpy couldn’t rouse Snow White,” Marcus shot back.

The corner of Bennett’s mouth quirked. It froze and faded with the next question.

“Who is ‘she?’ You said you found a spot _she_ would never look.”

It was a long moment before the priest replied. “Anna.”

“Bloody hell.” 

Marcus knew of Bennett’s past and of the sister he lost. He thought back to when both men were held hostage in a warehouse where a cadre of demons had attempted to use vocare pulvere on them. It had backfired thanks to Marcus’ intervention. 

“They almost had you in Chicago by using her. Makes sense she would be their trump card. What can you tell me about this demon? Name, rank, serial number? What does it want?”

“Its name is Erlik. It wants us to die.”

Marcus’ thoughts immediately placed him in the basement of the Roosevelt house. _All those bodies._

“An appetizer,” Bennett pointed out again, reading his mind. “He knows you paid a visit. Why did you come alone?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” The mystery had begun to fade. Marcus was finally getting the answers he needed. “You saved Mouse. Then, reached out to me in the loo the other night. Was it you with the girl, too?”

“What girl?”

Okay, so that _was_ God. Marcus ignored the question and pressed onward. “The room I found upstairs. That was you. You Swayzed me into finding that Bible.”

An irrepressible smile appeared on Bennett’s lips. “I can’t believe that worked. I guess after the barn and the bathroom, I got cocky.”

“Lucky more like.” Something occurred to him. “Or _blessed._ You’re not dead, Bennett. Therefore, you’re not a ghost. You don’t have the juice to do most of what you’ve done. 

“Nice work with Mouse though,” he complimented. “Bloody impressive.”

Bennett gave an appreciative nod. “God didn’t send me back from the grave. I’m not the only one with impressive skills.”

Marcus lifted one shoulder. “It’s who you know.”

“Erlik knows and wants you for his team. Tomas, too, obviously.” The priest paused. “Mouse is expendable.”

“Not exactly a spoiler given the marks on her throat,” the other man noted wryly.

“The bodies are a sacrifice for the two of you,” Bennett told him. “Erlik is rolling out the red carpet. It’s renting the Roosevelt house and was thrilled when you showed up unannounced. You should have heard it crowing. Those sacrifices were intentional. It knew they were never a fit for the ceremony.”

For once, Marcus didn’t know what to say. This had never crossed his mind. All of this, was to woo him and Tomas? 

“The carnival? Those people?”

Bennett shook his head. “That was Mouse’s punishment for thinking she was worthy of his attention. Her death, had I been unable to prevent it, would have been a bonus.”

A wave of nausea crashed over Marcus. He closed his eyes, needing time to process. One thing didn’t make sense to him — not that much of what he just learned did. “Tomas, I get. His visions would be a boon for either side. Why me?”

He looked at his friend, who seemed taken aback.

“Where the other demons — especially those in the Church — see insolence and insubordination, Erlik sees potential. Imagine the damage the two of you could do if you switched sides? The lion and the cub would be quite a feather in its cap.

“It also would be good for Erlik as it could rise to a level where it would gain the power it so richly believes it deserves.”

The overhead light inside the room dimmed and grew bright. Outside, it had grown dark. Marcus hadn’t even noticed.

“Our time is up and you are wanted.” A note of sadness colored Bennett’s tone.

“God is your lookout?” Marcus teased. “I think you’re catching up with me.”

He cocked his head. Did someone just say his name? Quietly, he listened. It was faint, but he could hear it.

“Go to him, Marcus. You’re scaring him.”

The dark blond nodded, taking Bennett’s hands in his. “We _will_ bring you back.”

“I trust you. Now go.”

  
  
  
  
  


The crunch of dry hay and gravel were underfoot. Above, a man gasping for breath, which would be robbed from him in an instant. He was hanging from the rafters, a noose around his neck. Shadows stole his features. There was no way to identify him. His fingers clawed at the rope.

A growl, low and dangerous, rumbled throughout the space. It was a barn. Seconds later, a loud snap of bone cut through the air. The growl transformed into a deafening roar. Sharp claws reached out and swiped.

Tomas woke up with a start. He struggled to catch his breath for a few seconds, but it came willingly. When it did, his pulse slowed and the pounding of his heart eased. The sound of light rain tapping against the window, assisted a persistent breeze. Absently, he reached for Marcus.

His hand landed on the fitted sheet instead of the lean, taut form of his boyfriend. Someone was talking. It was hard for his mind to focus, stuck as it was on the vision he just had. _More like a nightmare._ Great. Just what he needed on top of everything else happening.

In the darkness of the room, Tomas could make out Marcus’ form on the other bed. His gravelly voice a balm after the disturbing images he had seen. _Who is he talking to?_

“Marcus?” Tomas got out of their bed and went around to the foot of the other. He flipped the switch by the door, the lamps on the TV stand and the nightstand between the beds lit up. 

The soft glow allowed him to see his lover’s face. His pupils were dilated. His body turned as if in conversation with someone next to him. Tomas didn’t know who that could be and that terrified him. He needed to bring Marcus back.

The older man continued talking, but Tomas wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t matter what they were discussing. He needed his love here with him. Crouching, he took Marcus’ hands in his. As always, the St. Benedict’s medal fastened to the leather cord on his wrist. “Marcus. Querido. I am here. Wherever you are, just come back. Come back to me.”

Tomas kissed his partner’s hands, allowing his beard to rake across the skin. “Baby, please. Feel me. Hear me. I love you. I can’t do this without you. It’s you and me, remember? We’re in this together. As far it goes. This isn’t how it ends. I know that.”

“Do you now?” Marcus asked sardonically.

A sigh of relief blew out of Tomas like a gust of wind. He landed on his knees and bowed his head, resting his forehead on Marcus’ hands. “Gracias. Gracias.”

Seeing how distressed his boyfriend was shook the older man. “Tomas, luv. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

He carded his fingers through the black curls, letting his hand slide straight down to his back. Then, Marcus bent over him. His lips pressed to Tomas’ nape while his hands lay on him, one on the small of his back and other on the curve of his spine.

They stayed like that for a bit. As they soaked up each other’s presence and that of God’s, it was a moment for centering themselves. Separately, they had experienced something profound. Taking time for devotion seemed only natural.

Marcus was the first to move. He sat up and arched his back to stretch it out. Tomas joined him, standing and mimicking him. His partner rose, taking the younger man’s face in his hands.

“What happened? Another vision?” The blue of his irises looked dark, like the ocean at night. Concern filled his being.

Tomas nodded. “When I woke up you were right here. _Talking_ to some … _thing_ I couldn’t see. Where did you go? There is something very wrong at play here. I’m scared, Marcus.”

His voice broke on the last sentence.

“So am I,” Marcus admitted. He pulled Tomas into an embrace. The other man trembled slightly as he clung to him, burying his face in his lover’s neck. Marcus loved the way Tomas’ beard scratched his skin. “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

It was only now Tomas realized they were both still naked. Not that it mattered. He loved how natural it felt. A small smile curled his lips slightly. Naked. Natural. The wordplay struck him as funny. God, he was tired.

The clothes they had thrown on to greet the delivery person had lasted until they went to bed a couple hours ago. Their meager search abandoned once the food arrived. Tomas had stripped without giving it a second thought. Marcus had followed suit without comment.

However, sleep was the last thing on his mind as he pulled Marcus back to their bed. He wanted to know what his partner had just gone through. Wherever it was it couldn’t be good. Deep down, he knew he was going to hate the truth. When did everything get so complicated?

“Hey,” Marcus put his hand on the back of Tomas’ neck, in a bid to get him out of his head. “I’m right here. Talk to me.”

Sitting on the bed, face to face, Tomas told him what he saw.

“The man in the noose,” Marcus said after. “You saw him in your earlier vision at the barn, eh? Any idea who he is?”

Tomas shook his head. “No. He doesn’t say anything. Just fights for his life; losing each time.” He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “Your turn.”

“Not just yet,” Marcus told him. “The growling, the roar, the claws. What animal do you think it is?”

“Bear. There’s no mistaking it.”

This got a raised eyebrow. “Have a lot of experience with our ursine friends, have you?”

The other man laughed. “I’ve seen my share of nature documentaries.” His mood sombered. “Your turn.”

Marcus acquiesced and launched into the recollection of his meeting with Bennett. He couldn’t read Tomas as he went on, which concerned him. The man normally was an open book. If he didn’t know what he was thinking that meant it wasn’t favorable.

He had wanted Tomas to be accepting of his seeing Bennett. This wasn’t a trick. It was real and trying to wrap his head around God’s magnificence at such a late hour would only do his head in.

Tomas was quiet for a minute or two once Marcus wrapped up his tale. It was a lot to absorb. He knew his partner anticipated his reaction, but he loathed giving it. 

“You spoke with Bennett. _Our_ Bennett. Not the demon.”

“That’s correct. It was him. On my word.”

“I believe you.” Tomas' eyes slid away from Marcus’ for a second before snapping back. “But I don’t believe him.”

A slow smile spread across Marcus’ lips. “Good.”

The other man narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“I need you and Mouse to make sure I keep my head on straight with this,” the dark blond admitted, scratching his scruffy chin. “But there is something that bothers me.”

One look at Tomas told Marcus he wasn’t going to stop himself from passing out soon. Just as well. Marcus was ready to collapse back into a deep sleep, too.

“We’ll suss it out in the morning,” he assured him. “Back to bed.”

As he crawled back under the covers, Tomas asked, “What is it that bothers you? Is Bennett lying?”

“He told me he trusted me.”

“Doesn’t he?”

Laying on his back, Marcus opened his arms for his boyfriend to curl up against him. Once Tomas was situated, the older man said, “Yes. But he’d sooner die than admit it. He was warning me. This Erlik is more dangerous than we believe.”


	14. Chapter 14

**The recent past**

There was blood on his hands. So much blood. The darkness of his skin was less brown than black now. Their faces haunted him; flashing in his brain like a strobe, a disorienting reminder of the lives he had taken and the pain he had caused.

It had started with the nurse in the hospital outside Spokane, Washington. He had cut off her head with a set of large hedge clippers. Where he had found them remained unclear, but figured it was for the best. Some things should remain unknown.

Devon Bennett had been living his own personal hell for how long he couldn’t tell. Weeks? Months? The days blurred together. The minutes stretched. There were no clocks or calendars where he was. Trapped inside himself, a prisoner within his own mind and body. 

His soul rallied while his body slowly lost the fight. The war not yet over, he continued to battle against the demon who had taken up residence in him.

In the beginning, Bennett had fought like he was taught on the streets of Punia. He was always studious, but knew how to defend himself and others. Marcus had called him scrappy, once upon a time. How he missed that impudent, cocksure, pain in the ass. 

They were alike in more ways than they would ever admit. One of the main reasons why they drove each other nuts. Bennett drew strength from his friend. He had no doubt he and Tomas — possibly even Mouse — were out there looking for him. 

Mouse, with her own sense of arrogance, would conceivably write him off as a lost cause. Memories of their time in Belgium with Sister Delores played in his mind’s eye. The former nun had been right then. Would she be right now?

God, he hoped not. Not when he was scraping by, struggling to stay afloat in the morass of his own bodily prison. He had faith. _That_ was something he would have until his dying breath.

When they had landed in Preston, Pennsylvania, he knew something was up. The demon had been so thrilled when they arrived at the home of someone named Roosevelt.

Ah, yes. The demon.

Erlik, god of death.

“Charming,” Bennett had said upon making its acquaintance.

The smile upon those lips had made Bennett’s blood curdle. For it wasn’t just any guise Erlik took, but that of Bennett’s beloved sister. He had left Anna behind in Punia all those years ago and the guilt had never left him. 

Her story remained unwritten. The last he had heard, she had been gunned down not long after he departed their country. Other accounts had her fleeing Punia and making her way to Australia. He had never been able to learn the truth. Perhaps it was for the best. The idea of her out in the world, living her best life gave him hope.

Hope would get him through this.

Erlik took a shine to Bennett, making sure he rode shotgun for all their misadventures together. 

Hence the blood on his hands.

As time progressed, a niggle had developed deep down. It had occurred to him just like that and refused to leave. If anyone knew the fate of Anna it would be the god of death.

“Just ask me and I will answer truthfully,” Erlik had told him, reading his thoughts or the quick glimmer of realization in his eyes before it was gone.

The question never came and neither did the answer.

He was kept on a short leash. When they had arrived in Preston, Bennett saw all the people who lived here. He had feared for their safety more than his own. A lost cause he may be, but surely they were not.

Most of the time, the demon had let him be when they were not carousing. It liked Bennett — that much was clear — but it liked what he could do for it far more. 

Then, one day, it had appeared in Anna’s form and asked him a question in her voice: “Which of your friends do you like the least?”

Bennett had stared at her, too shocked to answer.

“Good,” Erlik replied. “I was hoping it would be her.”

“No! Leave her alone! She’s done nothing!”

She was inches from his face in an instant. “On the contrary, she’s stalked my every move through half a dozen states. I thought I lost her after that episode with the little bitch and her family in New York. She had her chance to back off, to save herself. Lucky for me, she chose otherwise.

“Her death will be delectable. I’ll savor it for days. The sanctimonious ones always have a _special flavor_ to them that is indescribable.”

Slowly and seductively, Anna’s tongue licked up the center of Bennett’s lips twice. “Come on, brother. Let me in. We always have such fun when we’re together. Think of the past few days. All those people. Imposters who weren’t worthy vessels for our brethren. What a waste of the vocare pulvere.

“I know the thrill that ran through you when we cut them down afterward and removed their organs for the next ceremony,” she trilled in his ear. “You liked it, brother. Your hard cock and dilated pupils told me so.”

Bennett backed away from her, eyes wide and an incredulous look on his face. “It wasn’t a thrill that ran through me, it was a wave of horror at watching those people die. They were innocent and _you_ seduced them. Just like you seduced me!”

“Innocent?” she snorted. “Pigs for the slaughter, all of them. None of them had any virtue, brother. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be rotting in the basement. Don’t play the victim with me. You came willingly. What a worthy specimen you are!”

He wiped his mouth, still feeling the press of her tongue against his lips. “What is it you want with me? I wasn’t the first choice then and I sure as hell aren’t now.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice wording, brother. Haven’t you figured it out by now?” Carefully, she walked toward him. “You’re the bait.”

“Marcus and Tomas.”

“There’s the bright boy who caught the eye of the Church.” Her eyes lit with malicious joy. “They are who we all want. Particularly that lovely boy with the second sight. He can raise my star anytime.”

“So, what? You kill Marcus and seduce Tomas to the dark side? Manipulate his grief until he’s putty in your hands?”

Anna tilted her head in such a way it made Bennett shut his eyes. Erlik may make a poor facsimile of his sister but, occasionally, the demon was uncanny. When Bennett opened them, he saw a smirk that proved who was really behind the image.

“That’s not a bad plan, brother,” Erlik said in her voice, not commenting on Bennett’s distress. “But not what I had in mind. No, I want the set. They are a force to be reckoned with, the Old Gray Lion and his cub. Especially since I know both are God’s chosen. The bastard actually sent the lion back after one of us slayed him. No one gets that treatment.”

Bennett’s heart tightened. Marcus Keane had been cut down by _a demon_? It was unfathomable. Oddly, it was that which stuck in his head more than God sending Marcus back to keep fighting. Of course, He would. Marcus probably pulled a gun on him. Obstinate son of a bitch.

There was a peculiar glint in Anna’s brown eyes that Bennett noted. He didn’t focus on it so as not to tip his hand, but he suspected Erlik wasn’t being entirely upfront with him.

“Stop calling me brother,” he snarled. “You are not her and you never will be.”

“But we _are_ brothers, Bennett. We share a body. We’ve taken lives. Brothers in arms, that’s what we are.” She gripped his shoulders. “This is a war. Stick with me and you’ll be on the winning side. You’ll even get your precious Marcus Keane back and _he’ll_ get to keep his lover. _Everybody wins!_ ”

Except Mouse.

Hours later, Bennett had watched helplessly as she was strung up in that barn. She kicked at the air and clawed at the rope around her neck. He saw her stop moving. Before he knew it, she was on the ground and he was giving her CPR. When she drew in that large intake of air and her eyes popped open, he thanked God profusely.

He didn’t know how he had been able to take the wheel from Erlik or what consequences awaited him when Erlik would rip control away from him, but Bennett didn’t care. It was worth it knowing Mouse was alive. That he had taken that victory away from the demon.

Later that night, after he had found his way back to the house on the corner of Maple and Elm, Bennett made his way upstairs. He knew the dwelling well enough thanks to Erlik keeping him by his side. This was why the door to his left made him stop in his tracks. It hadn’t been there before. 

Opening the door, he had found an empty room with an old hardwood floor. He saw the potential in this room. A safe space for him should he be able to wrest control away from Erlik again. 

The next instant, the world went dark.

When he had gained consciousness sometime later, he had been stripped down to an undershirt and boxers. Bennett moved his arm only for it to jerk when he moved it too far. His eyes landed on the restraint on one wrist, then the other. Hesitantly, his gaze ran up the chain at his right till he saw it bolted near the baseboard. A tug on his left wrist confirmed the same was true there.

“You’ve been a bad boy, brother.”

Bennett had finally noticed he wasn’t alone in the room. Erlik stood in the center — still in Anna’s form — a small tool kit unrolled at his feet.

“I’m impressed,” she said. “I don’t know how you did it. I suspect the same of you. However, this cannot go unpunished.” 

She sighed. “I do like this body, but c’est la vie.”

Anna crouched down and selected a hooked surgical blade. “Twelve has always been my lucky number,” she explained with a grin.

Bennett pulled the chains, muscles straining at the effort. Fear swept through his body as his eyes bulged and he broke out into a cold sweat. The chains held fast, ensuring his fate.

“I encourage you to scream,” she told him. “After the last time, no one will come.”

The last time had been the end of one of their “volunteers” (Erlik’s word). Neighbors appeared in the street and at the front door, but Erlik had convinced them it was nothing and wouldn’t happen again. It had disturbed Bennett the ease with which it led them to believe the lie.

“Don’t worry, brother. I won’t kill you.”

  
  
  
  
  


Upon awakening after passing out from the pain, Bennett’s first thought was to wonder if the room he was in existed. He was referring to whether it was an actual room within the house as opposed to this one, which his mind had apparently conjured. The same one where he currently was located. There was something about the space that captured his imagination, regardless. What that was, he didn’t know as he was in no shape for any thoughts deeper than _Where was she?_

There were cuts on his abdomen, as well as welts and scars on his arms. His undershirt had long been abandoned. The chains had been removed from his wrists, but the damage had been done. A layer of skin, maybe two, had been rubbed off; the area now pink and raw. 

A pair of black trousers and a white tank lay folded next to the mattress. Bennett sat up with a groan. With considerable effort, he got to his feet. Trousers fastened and tank ignored for now, his mind tried to recall the last thing he could remember. The two windows were papered over. It prevented a view, but did allow light in.

Bennett shut his eyes and turned his head away as a flash of memory seared his brain. There was a loud roar in his head, which caused him to slam his hands against his ears. It was gone a few seconds later.

His body was stiff; a dull ache lingered all over. Closer inspection confirmed his wounds had been treated. Erlik taking care of his prisoner/patient. _The perfect host._

He remembered a glint of steel at one point after the punishment had been rendered. Laying on the mattress at that point in time — _Where did it come from? It hadn’t been there when I blacked out after coming back here_ — he very dimly recalled seeing Anna. She had been sitting with her back to the wall opposite, one leg bent at the knee and the other sticking out.

There was a knife in her hand. Had she been carving something? Yes. Out of something pale, natural. Wood. The brief conversation came back to Bennett now.

“What … is … that?” he had asked, his voice rough and energy depleted.

“It’s me.” She had continued whittling, never once looking up at him.

“How?” The piece of wood was too small to be a true likeness. Confusion had engulfed him. He wouldn’t be conscious for much longer.

“It’s a representation. A totemic bear. All sharp angles and myriad ways to view me. It’s not my claws you should be concerned with.”

After that, he had passed out again. 

Now, in the spot where Erlik sat was a Bible and a piece of charcoal. Bennett’s heart tightened as he lunged for the good book. He flipped through its pages. All were as they should be, white with black type across its width and down its length.

For years, he had scolded Marcus for desecrating the Bible with his sketches and his notes. Tears stung his eyes as Bennett knew what he was about to do. It was the only thing he could think of to keep his sanity and his humanity, both of which he clung to like a life preserver.

He lost himself in his work, hours sliding away as the sun set and rose. It occurred to him abstractly Erlik had yet come to find him. Odd. However, he didn’t give it much thought until the door to the room opened.

No one entered and yet the room remained ajar. Bennett stood, allowing his curiosity to lead him across the threshold. It was not the hallway of the Roosevelt house that lay just beyond. Instead, it was a public restroom. He couldn’t believe who was there at the sink.

Marcus splashed water on his face, then ran a paper towel over his features. The other man caught his eye in the mirror. Shock, relief and happiness flicked through those blue eyes Bennett knew so well.

He called out to him. Was he really going to make contact?

The next instant, Bennett was back in his room. The Bible and a piece of charcoal at his feet. The door closed.

“What the hell was that?” His voice filled the space. Whom he was asking he wasn’t sure, but either way he wasn’t expecting an answer.

For some reason, he began thinking of the St. Aquinas home. The rational explanation would be because of Marcus. Yet he hadn’t thought of that place since his friend left it behind and showed up at Tomas’ side all those months ago.

Felt like years now.

Still, Bennett took his book to the mattress and, there, sketched the bloom of a flower he had seen once upon a time. 

He drew as though compelled to do so. From beyond the walls of the house, he heard school buses pick up and drop off passengers, and cars drive by. One of the vehicles had its windows down. Music reached his ears and Bennett sang along to the Jackson Five’s “ABC.”

Much later, he heard a noise from outside the door. It sounded like someone jiggling the handle trying to get inside. Quickly, he looked for a place to hide his Bible. His eyes caught the baseboard across from him. It could have been a trick of light, but it seemed to be jutting out a bit.

Bennett scrambled over to it and was able to pull out the loose piece. He shoved the Bible and charcoal in the spot, putting the board back just as Marcus came through the door.

The priest didn’t know how his friend had found him. It didn’t matter. This time, he would make contact. 

His eyes followed Marcus’ to the upside-down cross. Funny, he hadn’t noticed it before. He cracked a smile at the dark blonde’s comment on the house being haunted. As pleased as he was to have Marcus with him, Bennett knew they needed to move this along. Who knew when Erlik would return? There was no way Bennett would allow the demon god to have his friend.

“Marcus.”

The other man’s reaction did get a chuckle out of him. It faded quickly when he saw Marcus find the baseboard and the Bible. When he was once more alone, Bennett let out a huge sigh of relief. That was important, but now he knew he needed _to talk_ to Marcus. 

But how? Where?

Again, St. Aquinas presented itself. 

“That’s great, but I can’t exactly get myself to Illinois,” he muttered. 

Besides, there was the Erlik factor.

The door to the room opened once more.

Bennett eyed it with trepidation and a healthy dose of skepticism. What was going on? How was this happening? Marcus had mentioned this being a house of the Devil and Bennett himself had a vague understanding that this wasn’t just any home Erlik had chosen.

This could be a trap.

Or…

He walked through and into another room. One he had only visited once more than two years ago. It was a place he would never forget.

Marcus Keane had spent eighteen months in this room as a resident.

There was a cassette tape player on the desk. Bennett pressed the play button, smiling at the music that came out of the speaker. A sense of calm washed over him. He lay down on the bed and waited, no doubt in his mind Marcus would find him here.

Then, they could finally talk.


	15. Chapter 15

**Algiers, Algeria — Seven years ago**

Eight hours straight without a break. 

The two exorcists had entered the home and went directly into the back room, where the person possessed waited for them. It was a pregnant woman well into her second trimester. Her mother and husband stood at the foot of the bed along with a priest. All three said the Lord’s Prayer.

When the older priest caught sight of the two outsiders, he nodded at them and escorted the family out of the room. Marcus had attached his collar before entering the house. Before the local priest left, he blessed the exorcists. Panting, like that of a dog, was the only soundtrack.

“Nothing like a bitch in heat,” the woman said in Arabic, her voice distorted. She pointed at her stomach. “How hot before the pup burns? Maybe I should just slam my stomach into the nearest wall.”

It only got worse from there. She cursed them and the family in six other languages, at least half of them long dead. Her appearance was deteriorating. The baby would become their priority if they couldn’t save its mother.

Bennett had made a rookie mistake of carrying a Swiss Army knife in his pocket. The nimble fingers of the woman removed it before either he or Marcus realized it and then, it was almost too late.

They had to wrest it from her grasp, but not before she sliced open one side of her stomach. Quickly, the men called for towels and medical supplies. To their relief — and the demon’s dismay — it was a flesh wound. The blood was staunched swiftly and the baby did not appear to be in any distress.

Marcus had shot his protégé a look of anger and disappointment. It pierced Bennett’s pride, doing more damage in a moment than his own internal berating. The older man made no other comment, letting it pass.

Onward they went, letting the power come from the repetition of the words. Holy water sprayed. Prayers sent. The rite of exorcism delivered. 

She reacted violently. Body slamming onto the bed as her arms were secured. There wasn’t enough rope for her legs. The men each attempted to hold down her lower half by the ankle.

Well after ten that evening, they stepped outside into a small courtyard out near the bedroom for a small break as their charge slept. She had passed out from exhaustion. The woman’s mother provided them with water and fresh fruit. Marcus declined the offer of bread. He had seen digested food rise back up in the heat of battle and it was decidedly not palatable.

“How are you holding up there, young Bennett?” Marcus asked before biting into a plum. “Still want to complete your training?”

“You knew she was pregnant.” His eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the other man replied nonchalantly, taking another bite.

“Of course, it matters!” Bennett’s voice rose as he slammed his palm onto the white table where they were enjoying their meal.

Marcus swallowed. He contemplated the fruit he held. “Why does it matter? The mother is still the one at risk. She’s still our focus. Save the mum, save the kid.”

“And if we can’t save the mother?” Bennett asked quietly, resolve remained where anger had faded.

“Then, we ensure her soul is in good hands before handing her over to the medical professionals.” His gaze remained fixed on the half-eaten plum.

“And if the child cannot be saved?”

It was a long moment before Marcus tore his eyes away from the fruit and set them on his protégé. “Then, we pick ourselves up. Dust ourselves off. Start all over again.”

Two bites later, the plum was gone.

“Just like that?” After only a few hours with the woman in the house behind them, Bennett found himself becoming invested in her future. He wanted her to have one. “I don’t even know her name.”

“It’s Imane.” 

Marcus had been studying the young exorcist during their time together. He found him endlessly fascinating and unequivocally insufferable. It would be a lie to say he hoped Bennett hadn’t the same reaction to him. Taking him in now, what struck him most about his companion was his compassion.

Most wouldn’t see past his regimental standard. A closer look, however, would unlock the secrets within … or at least a few of them. With Bennett, you had to earn that deep dive into what made him tick. Otherwise, you only would see what he allowed you. Marcus very much wanted to earn his respect and trust.

“It means ‘faith or belief.’” He pointed in the direction of the bedroom. “She’s in there, right now, fighting because she has faith in God and a belief in Him that He loves her enough to save her.”

Bennett nodded. “We’re here because He wants us here. She’s the mission. They both are.”

With a smile, Marcus plucked a peach from the bowl on the table. He drank from the glass of water in front of him and sat back with the fruit in both hands; elbows on the arms of the chair in which he sat. “Now, you’re getting it.”

He pointed at the bowl of fruit and jug of water on the table. “Eat. Hydrate. We’ll be back in there soon and who knows when we’ll come back out again.”

The young priest did as he was told. He filled his water glass and selected a plum, which he rested on his plate. “Don’t worry. I learned my lesson.”

“Oh yeah?” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Which one is that?”

“Never bring a knife to an exorcism.” He sunk his teeth into the juicy fruit, chewing with satisfaction.

“Especially when a gun is so much more effective,” Marcus countered.


	16. Chapter 16

The sky opened and let loose a torrent of rain that pelted the ground, soaking everything instantly. It hadn’t been that long since the last storm. Only a few days, but it wasn’t nearly as severe as this. The first drops fell just after two in the morning with the city of Preston seeing nearly three inches of rain once all was said and done.

Lightning lit up the clouds that covered the heavens as far as the eye could see. Peals of thunder shook buildings; so loud was it that more than one person woke up in their bed with a start. Such intense storms were uncommon here. The pelting water cascading over their homes put them somewhat at ease. Its white noise served as a soothing way to fall back asleep.

Not everyone was bothered by the clamor and the clangor of Mother Nature or God or however you chose to view it. Tomas and Marcus were passed out in each other’s arms, naked under the covers of the bed in their motel room. Mouse and Lara were similarly situated, with Mouse spooned against Lara’s back. 

Blue Tortorella sat in the living room of her apartment watching _The Conjuring 2_ , which had felt oddly appropriate considering the day she had had. Between meeting former priest Marcus Keane, whom she was convinced was a badass in the vein of Ed and Lorraine Warren, and all the questions he and his friend Mouse had asked about the Roosevelt house, it had left her with a movie itch to scratch.

Safely tucked away in her bedroom despite being just down the street from the house on everyone’s mind, Halley Louise Jemson sat in bed with a book in her lap and a flashlight in hand. She supposed it would have been easier to grab her e-reader, but the book she wanted wasn’t there. It was on her bookshelf. The book in question told of local legends and one in particular had taken root deep inside her.

She hadn’t heard any voices following meeting Marcus, Tomas and Mouse. Part of her was relieved, while another part was equally disappointed. Still, God had introduced her to the Roosevelt house and her new friends. Even if she was going to stay away from the place, Halley Louise wanted to know what its story was so she had an idea what her friends were facing.

The house on the corner of Maple and Elm streets was quiet as the grave. No lights were on; the only illumination coming from the sky above. Erlik had been aware its host had hidden himself away, but it was of no concern to it. Devon Bennett would be dealt with when the time came. The god of death admired the priest’s fight and thought of him vaguely like a sidekick. But, in the end, sidekicks were expendable.

A few miles away, out just beyond the fairgrounds to where the red barn that had nearly seen Mouse’s demise stood, the ground had become slick with mud thanks to the deluge of rain. The earth had absorbed the water to no effect at first. As the hours passed, it became soft as the hard-packed dirt slowly turned into a spongy brown mess.

  
  
  
  


Just after sunrise, John Mitchum turned his pickup truck onto the long dirt road that led to the farm on the other side of the barn. The property had been vacant for some time, but a quick check twice a day was part of his duties. Vandals had struck twice before over the years and his boss preferred not to have the occurrence repeat a third time.

As usual, he started on his right with the farmhouse. Locks were secure and a perimeter check confirmed no disturbances. He continued to hike around the rest of the property, eventually working his way back to the barn. His truck was parked next to the structure, which had space to turn around. It made it easier for him. Besides, John considered this his morning constitutional.

The storm from the night before had left behind more humidity than had been in place when it arrived. He took off his jacket, stowing it in the front seat of his truck. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. On the plus side, the sun didn’t have as much heat this time of year. Not that he was in any danger of getting sunburn, having never been prone to it. Heat stroke, on the other hand, was another story altogether.

He never understood why the barn had been built facing the field. Doors hadn’t been installed on both the front and back. Did the architect believe tractors would come in straight from the field? Was it a simple mistake that would cost too much to rectify? His boss didn’t have a clue either and neither had been able to find out an answer.

John shrugged. Now wasn’t the time to ponder fruitless lines of inquiry. Not when he had a full day’s work ahead of him. He headed around to the front of the barn when his foot snagged on something in the grass. It sent him tumbling to the ground. His knee hit the soft earth hard, but the impact wasn’t as harmful as it could have been thanks to the soaking from just a few hours ago.

Once he was sure no damage had been done, he got a look at what his boot had encountered. It was muted in color and protruded from the muddy spot where it had been buried. John leaned in, pulling out his phone from the case on his belt, and switched on the flashlight. The ethereal light from the break of day wasn’t bright enough to see clearly. 

He moved around to where his boot met the object. With the phone in one hand providing luminescence, he brushed away the soft dirt to confirm what his instinct already told him. His fingers met with hair and skin and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, one lens of which was now cracked. It was the head of some poor bastard who had been given a pauper’s burial and a shitty one at that.

With a heavy sigh, John Mitchum rose from his haunches and shut off the flashlight on his phone. He then dialed nine-one-one and calmly reported the dead body that lay partially exposed at his feet.

  
  
  
  
  


Music sliced through Marcus’ REM cycle, perforating his consciousness and jolting him awake. He groaned loudly, burying his face in Tomas’ neck. This was not how he preferred waking up in the morning. Opening his eyes on his own terms or because Tomas had his mouth around his cock were optimal.

After about a minute, it was silent once more. He approved of the lack of sound within the motel room. Much better. With minimal effort, he felt himself slipping back under. 

Tomas hadn’t moved at all. He had a knack for passing out when he slept. The melody from his phone burst forth and earned double the groans for its intrusion. Tomas moved onto his side, wrapping himself around Marcus. It was his turn to bury his face in his partner’s neck. The older man had no complaints. His boy was always welcome in his arms.

Silence filled the room again. 

It didn’t last.

Marcus’ phone went off for the second time and it was clear that whoever was calling would continue ping ponging between his and Tomas’ phones until one of them answered. 

There was no real mystery. They both knew it was Mouse. She was the only one who had both their numbers other than Bennett and would be obnoxious enough to keep ringing them.

“One of us is going to have to talk to her,” Marcus sighed.

“You,” Tomas grumbled.

Just as Marcus went to reach for his phone, it was silenced.

Tomas groused in Spanish. It was not kind. 

Marcus chuckled. “Short straw, luv,” he teased when the other phone rang again. “You’re up.”

With a glare after pushing himself up onto his elbows, Tomas complained, “I am now.”

He got a kiss for his efforts, but received a hand to his chest when he attempted more. Sighing, he rolled over and grabbed his phone. “What is so important that you have to call us at…”

“Twenty after seven,” Marcus offered when Tomas glanced at him for assistance.

“...twenty after seven?”

“I’ve been up for a half-hour,” she told him remorselessly. “And now I’m staring at a dead body that was washed up in last night’s storm.”

Tomas sat upright; Marcus right along with him.

“Whose body?” the younger man asked.

“I’m sending you a photo. Take a look for me, will you?”

He looked at his phone when the text message arrived with a photo embedded. Tomas held the phone so both he and Marcus could see the image. As soon as he saw it, he felt a chill roll over him. The hairs on his arms rose and goosebumps formed.

“You’ve seen him before.” Marcus hadn’t missed his boyfriend’s reaction. He noticed the color drain from his face.

“In my visions,” Tomas confirmed. “The one at the barn and the one that woke me up last night.”

Marcus understood what was left unspoken. The one that had woken up Tomas before he found him having a seemingly one-sided conversation with Bennett. Now was not the time to bring that up with Mouse.

“I thought you couldn’t see his face?”

“I couldn’t,” he looked confidently at Marcus, “but I know it is him.” 

“Tomas?” Mouse called out.

“I don’t know who he is,” he admitted after putting the call on speaker. “But I _have_ seen him before. His neck was broken.”

“How the hell did he know that?” a new female voice asked.

“It’s not important,” Mouse replied.

“The hell it isn’t.” There was an edge as the other woman spoke.

“How he knows has no bearing on the investigation. _Trust me._ ”

“Mouse? What’s going on?” Marcus didn’t like the sound of what was unfolding.

“Sorry,” she came back. “That was my friend, Lara, from the arson unit. You’re not going to like whose body this is.”

“Wait.” Marcus needed some clarifying first. “Why are _you_ on the scene and why is arson involved?”

“I was with Lara when a friend of hers in the department tipped her off that a body was unearthed this morning at our favorite barn. Considering the location, there was no way I _wasn’t_ coming to check it out. So, we came together since having a cop with me would make things easier.”

“Among other things,” Marcus pointed out, starting to see the forest through the trees.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” 

Both men knew Mouse was rolling her eyes as she begrudgingly acknowledged the truth.

“Anyway, the ID was no secret by the time we got here. John Mitchum phoned it in.”

Tomas remembered the ranch foreman well. At least someone honorable found the poor wretch. “Who is the dead man, Mouse?”

“Christopher Roosevelt. Turns out he wasn’t buried in the backyard, after all. Bonus? As the last living family member, Bennett didn’t just kill the previous homeowner. He chopped down the bloody family tree.”

A sinking feeling weighed down Marcus and Tomas like a lead balloon. They needed answers as there was no way this latest development was a coincidence.

Tomas hung up with Mouse. He was in a daze as her words reverberated in his ears. “What does this mean?”

His voice sounded faraway. The sound of it hollower than he would have liked. He groped for Marcus’ hand, squeezing it when he found it; their fingers intertwined. It was another couple seconds before he could bring himself to look into those cool blue eyes.

“I think it means we’re going to need a bigger boat,” Marcus declared quietly.

  
  
  
  
  


“How the hell did he know about Christopher Roosevelt’s neck?” Lara hissed quietly as she didn’t want the other cops to overhear.

They were away from the body and near the dirt road where the vehicles were parked. It hadn’t taken long for half the police department to descend upon the scene at Brueckner Farm. Within thirty minutes, lights and sirens could be heard from a mile out. It was a bit excessive considering the body had been buried for three weeks.

Mouse and Lara had arrived fifteen minutes later. With the farm near the fairgrounds, Lara could justify being there as part of the carnival investigation. Mouse just happened to be with her when she got the call. It wasn’t a lie by any stretch, but the arson investigator did feel a bit like a fraud nonetheless.

“Do you really want to know?” Mouse asked. “I don’t think you’re going to like the answer. He honestly had nothing to do with this.”

“I know,” Lara snapped, hands on her hips. “You and your friends haven’t been in town long enough. That’s not the point. Why won’t I like it? What is he? A psychic?”

The heat had faded just enough to allow her natural curiosity to seep through. Mouse debated whether telling her would be worth the aggravation … or the heartache. She sighed. _Just tell her already. You’ve had sex with her more than once and you know you want to spend more time with her. Give her a chance. Maybe she’ll surprise you. She has so far._

“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” she admitted. “He has visions. They show up when they want. The other morning, he and I were here to get some answers about what had happened to me the night before.” She nodded at the barn. “He had one in there.”

“What did he see?” Lara queried.

“Don’t know.” Mouse gave a one shoulder shrug. “He never said. I asked, but then we met John Mitchum and his rifle. It never came up again. As soon as I saw the body, something told me they might be connected. Guess I was right.”

They were silent as a light warm breeze blew by doing nothing to alleviate the humidity which soaked the early morning air. It was stultifying and Mouse was glad she had been able to borrow a tank top from Lara. Her T-shirts were few, each in dire need of a run through a washing machine.

Mouse ran the facts as she knew them through her mind. One big question that stuck out was why this bloody farm. Her gut told her there had to be a connection. It was too much of a coincidence that she and Christopher Roosevelt had been hung inside that very barn.

“Who owned this place before Mitchum’s boss took over? The sign I saw on our way in said Brueckner Farm.”

“That would be Josiah Brueckner.” 

John Mitchum strode over to them. His shirtsleeves rolled up above his elbows and beads of sweat glistening his forehead. He pulled out his handkerchief, wiping away the dew from his dark skin. 

“Had it for years till he died. He was smart though. Left it all to his daughter, Agnes.” Mitchum puffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Or so he thought.”

“What do you mean?” Mouse narrowed her eyes. “He didn’t leave it to her? Someone contested the will?”

He looked at Lara. “How well do you know your history, detective?”

She exhaled slowly. “I probably know more than I think.”

“You probably do,” he chuckled.

A few seconds later, the answer came to her. “Holy shit.”

“It’s connected to the Roosevelts,” Mouse guessed.

Lara nodded, not taking her eyes off her lover.

“What do _you_ know about the Roosevelts,” he asked Mouse.

“More and more every day,” she said dryly.

Mitchum took this into consideration. “Then, you’re going to love this.”

Mouse’s gaze slid from him to Lara. “Tell me.”

“Agnes Brueckner married James Roosevelt three years before her father died,” she began. “Josiah was killed in this barn when lightning struck it. The story goes that he heard Agnes calling for him. He had been asleep in his bed when her voice woke him. His wife, Mary, heard not a word; only the creak of the bed when he got up.

“She begged him not to go out. Even followed him all the way downstairs.” Lara pointed at the farmhouse across the way. “He came out in the dead of night, calling Agnes’ name. ‘I’m coming!’ he called out over and over. Mary made her way out with only the new moon to light her way. 

“No sooner had Josiah went inside the barn than a freak bolt of lightning struck it. Place went up like a tinderbox. Mary standing halfway between the house and the barn, wailing like a madwoman. Can you blame her? The love of her life and one of the best men ever to grace Preston was gone just like that.”

This was too much, even for Mouse. She closed her eyes. Her brain was swimming with this new knowledge. The Devil didn’t just acquire the Fitzgerald house when he made that deal with James Roosevelt that fateful night in the crossroads. He also ensured he got the Brueckner Farm in the bargain.

And he killed a very good man while he was at it. That must have just been the cherry on the sundae. After all, any property or money the wife inherits belongs to the husband just the same. 

James Roosevelt was either a desperate, Grade A sucker or the shrewdest acolyte ever to make the Devil an offer. Either way, he may have damned the entire city of Preston.

“You look like you need a drink,” John surmised, as he took in Mouse’s ghostly pallor.

“I think she needs to meet up with her friends.” 

Mouse gave Lara a grateful smile. She couldn’t believe how well this woman understood her in so little time. Maybe she wasn’t as complicated as she thought. Either way, it was nice.

“I will definitely take you up on that drink later,” she told John. “But Lara’s right. My friends are top priority right now. Are you free this afternoon?”

“For you, I will be. We need to have a conversation.”

She knew that knowing look all too well having seen it on Marcus’ face on more than one occasion. Lucy had some explaining to do. That was fine with her.

Damn, she was getting soft. 


	17. Chapter 17

Marcus pulled into a spot within Lincoln Park and parked the SUV. He exited the vehicle wishing it was cooler. A brisk morning while hanging out in the park sounded particularly appealing to him. Hitting the lock button on the keyless remote, he stuffed it in the front pocket of his jeans and joined Tomas.

They strolled along the path for a bit, knowingly not going too far astray as to miss Mouse when she arrived. Actually, when _they_ arrived. She wouldn’t be alone this time. Her most recent call told them they needed to meet up. The tension in her voice was unmistakable. 

It was Tomas who had suggested the park. He had taken a shine to it yesterday and Marcus couldn’t blame him. It was “a prettyish kind of wilderness,” to quote Jane Austen’s _Pride and Prejudice_. That phrase long ago had lodged itself into Marcus’ affections for reasons he couldn’t explain. _Very apt now_.

Hand in hand, the men ambled. They reached for each other simultaneously, which drew a grin from them both. After the past twenty-four hours, not connecting in some way felt as though a limb was missing. Even in the warmth of this morning, where the humidity steadily grew more oppressive with each passing minute, it wasn’t an option.

“Is this a good thing?” Tomas asked.

“Our public display of affection?” Marcus replied cheekily. “Yeah, I think it’s a fine thing. Everyone can see what a catch I landed.”

A heat spread across Tomas’ cheeks. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Mono descarado.”

“Cheeky monkey, eh?” Marcus cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Are you flirting with me, Tomas Ortega? You better watch yourself. Keep this up and you’ll be stuck with me.”

“Too late. And it’s _you_ who are stuck with _me_.” He kissed his boyfriend on the cheek, the rough stubble arousing him more than it should. “You should forget to shave more often.”

“You are in a particularly good mood this morning. What did you do? Pull the flask out of your Bible and sneak a long pull while I took a piss in the bathroom?”

Marcus couldn’t help the mile-wide smile that spread across his lips. Tomas was happy and he had a sneaking suspicion he was the reason why. This knowledge made his heart grow three sizes, making it feel as if it was pressing against his ribcage.

“You wish,” Tomas replied. He had briefly considered getting one as a Christmas gift for Marcus, but discarded it almost immediately. It was too sacrilegious, no matter how appropriate. 

“I don’t know what it is.” He paused for a second and changed his mind. “Yes, I do. It’s you. Being here with you, out in the open, where no one knows us. Just two men in love and not ashamed to show it.”

Tomas stopped and pulled Marcus into a passionate kiss. For a few brief seconds, the world slipped away. “I will never get tired of doing that,” he breathed against his boyfriend’s lips once they parted.

“Ditto,” Marcus panted. He kissed him back and, again, it was just the two of them.

They were about to continue their walk when the sound of tires crunching on gravel made them turn toward the parking lot. Mouse’s green pickup truck and a silver crossover vehicle pulled up side by side next to the black SUV.

“In answer to your earlier question before I thoroughly distracted you, I do think this is a good thing. Even if the relationship only lasts as long as she's in town, Mouse deserves a bit of happiness as much as anyone,” Marcus said. “Now, let’s go see how much the girlfriend knows.”

“Duty calls,” Tomas replied, a touch forlornly. He grabbed his partner’s arm. “About Bennett….”

“Not a word,” Marcus warned. “I know it’s only a matter of time, but this isn’t it.”

Tomas agreed on both counts. He wasn’t looking forward to Mouse’s reaction when the time did come.

  
  
  
  
  


After the initial introductions, the foursome decamped to the picnic area. Marcus sat on top of a table, Tomas on its bench. The women stood as they brought the men up to speed.

“There has to be a connection.” It had been a bit before Marcus regained his ability to speak. The house was one thing, but the barn, too? His head spun at the implications. “Or was it just dumb luck on the Devil’s part?”

“No,” Tomas said firmly while shaking his head. “He knew what he was doing when he made that deal. James Roosevelt might have thought he hit the jackpot that night, but it was the Devil who won. How many other properties do the Roosevelts’ currently own?”

“None that I’m aware of,” Lara told them. “But not everything regarding the family is part of the legend.”

“I’ll call Blue and see what she can dig up,” Mouse suggested, pulling out her phone. She saw it wasn’t nine yet. “Assessor’s office isn’t open yet. Hopefully, she can help. That reminds me. I talked to her last night and she advised me to see Agnes Butcher at the historical society.”

Lara nodded. “Agnes is the town’s keeper of secrets. Anything unusual going on, past or present, she’ll know about it. Ask her about any property connections to the Roosevelts. I’m sure Blue can help, but Agnes is Google in comparison.”

“We’ll do that,” Tomas assured her. “Thank you.”

She shrugged, arms crossed over her chest. “No problem. Glad to be of help.”

“What, exactly, has Mouse told you about us?” Marcus leaned forward, forearms on his knees.

Tomas and Mouse both recognized the inquisitive nature of his demeanor and braced for impact.

“Not much. She’s been vague on most points, but quite clear on others.” Lara glanced at Tomas.

“She told you about my visions.” To his surprise, he didn’t feel defensive. He suspected Lara wouldn’t judge. Why he was so certain, he didn’t know. Intuition … or maybe, perhaps, it was God whispering in his ear.

“Yes. I don’t know if I should feel sorry for you or be in awe,” she admitted.

“That’s a standard reaction,” Marcus assured her. “Unless you’re Mouse. Then, you go a different way.”

The dark brunette bristled, but remained silent. There was no malice on his part, just a statement of fact. She still believed Tomas could be a powerful weapon. Perhaps, they would see reason when it came time to their showdown with Bennett.

“You weren’t impressed?” Lara looked at her.

“Very. I just wanted to put his gifts to their best use.”

Marcus snorted and Tomas grew tense.

“Perhaps, their true purpose hasn’t been revealed. One tends not to tap into his or her true power until a pivotal moment,” Lara proposed.

Tomas relaxed a little. “Perhaps. We’re confident in their source. I do wonder if the training wheels are still on.”

“You do?” Marcus and Mouse asked in unison.

He nodded. “Sometimes. Like now. What if it’s all been building to this? Or what if this is the first real test before the big exam?”

“You think Bennett is the midterm and the other guy is graduation day?” Marcus placed a hand on Tomas’ shoulder.

“There’s a terrifying thought,” Mouse conceded.

Lara didn’t know who “the other guy” was, but it didn’t take much to work out he was worse than this Bennett. Suddenly, she was scared for her friend. Mouse had nearly died the other night. Now, she was aiming to face him, go toe-to-toe with him for round two. If this was the undercard, Lara could only imagine what the heavyweight would look like.

“I should get going,” she announced. “I still need to grab a shower and something to eat before getting to work. It was nice meeting you, Marcus. Tomas.”

Mouse walked her back, taking her hand as soon as their backs were to the men. She saw the fear in Lara’s eyes as it registered with her what, exactly, Mouse was getting herself into with this investigation. The phrase playing with fire came to mind; appropriate for more than one reason.

“Can I call you later?” she asked once they were back at the lot.

“You better,” Lara told her. “I’m going to worry about you either way, but throw me a bone, eh? Now I get why my other girlfriends were always so concerned. It’s not fun being on this side.”

“No, I suppose it’s not,” Mouse said softly. She leaned in and chastely pressed her lips against her lover’s. “Don’t give up on me,” she whispered in her ear.

“Only if you promise the same.” Lara rested their foreheads together. “It’s not easy keeping up with you three without all the facts, so just be patient.”

Mouse laughed. “You really don’t know me yet.”


	18. Chapter 18

Due to the early hour and the fact they weren’t hungry yet, Marcus, Tomas and Mouse headed back to their separate motel rooms to crash for a little bit. Before parting ways, Mouse looked up the Preston Historical Society’s hours on her phone. It opened at eleven, so they agreed to meet for breakfast at ten.

They arrived at the historical society just past eleven in their own vehicles. Mouse insisted it was a good rule of thumb and neither man saw fit to question her. At least this way, there was always a vehicle available at a moment’s notice.

The building was a two-story stone house with a portico that was owned by the first family of Preston. Over the years, the house had seen a few additions to maintain its status in the changing times while preserving its heritage.

Malcolm Preston had founded the borough, as it was known then, in 1642. His love of the place and its people pushed him to keep expanding and growing. In 1703, Preston officially became a town. By then, Malcolm Preston had been dead eight years due to a measles outbreak. 

By 1784, the town was designated a city. The Preston family had kept ownership of Malcolm’s home until 1911, when they donated it to the city for use as a historical society. It had been previously brought to the attention of Maud Preston, Malcolm’s great-great-niece, that the city which bore her name should have a place to preserve its grand past.

Maud agreed and the Preston Historical Society opened its doors on the first of November that year. It had been in operation ever since, hosting seasonal tours to generate funds not covered by the stipend from the city.

The two vehicles carrying Marcus, Tomas and Mouse pulled into the horseshoe driveway and headed straight back where a small parking lot was located. The trio walked up to the front door, letting themselves inside. An electronic bell overhead sounded, indicating their presence.

Hardwood floors greeted wood paneling covering two-thirds of each wall in the foyer; the final third painted an olive green. Dark wood beams sectioned off the ceiling, allowing a mustard yellow to peek through.

An older woman in her early sixties, her long jet black hair pulled into a tight bun, welcomed the party. When each had signed the register by the entrance after Marcus told their host they wished to speak with Agnes Butcher, the older woman went to see if Agnes was available.

A minute later, the woman in question appeared. Agnes was roughly the same age as the raven-haired lady who had received them. Her eyes were the color of caramel and she kept her silver hair in a flattering bob. After introductions were made and she learned what topic held their interest, she led them to the library.

“Now, what is it about the Roosevelt house that has you all atwitter?” Agnes asked once the four of them were settled around a circular table.

None of them rushed to answer. Marcus opened his mouth only to close it as he struggled with how best to explain their predicament.

“We’ve heard about some of the history and would like to know more. However, what we’re interested in isn’t the black-and-white textbook stuff.”

She smiled. “You want to hear about all the red. I suppose you know all about poor Christopher Roosevelt out there at Brueckner Farm.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied politely as Tomas and Mouse nodded.

“I saw his body,” Mouse admitted. “Or at least the part that the rain revealed.”

As she was sitting next to Agnes, the older woman placed a hand over Mouse’s. “Is it true his neck was broken just like Josiah’s?”

“Yes.” Mouse kept her eyes trained on the other woman’s.

“You nearly had a similar fate it seems,” Agnes commented as she noticed the marks on Mouse’s neck.

“I got lucky.”

“I’ll say.” The slight irreverence in her tone got a grin from the trio. “So, what do you want to know?”

“We know that Josiah was Agnes Roosevelt’s father and that she inherited the farm when he died,” Mouse shared. “Which was the same night her husband James made his deal with the Devil.”

“So you believe that legend, huh?” Agnes remarked, raising her eyebrows.

“Absolutely,” Tomas chimed in resolutely.

“Good,” she told them. “Anyone who tells you it’s just a campfire tale is talking out of their ass.”

Marcus was already in love with her. She reminded him of Mother Bernadette from his time in Chicago. Bernadette was a tough love woman, whose kindness rivaled her pragmatism. Though he had only known her for a short time before she was killed by the demon that had integrated with Angela Rance, what he had learned from her stayed with him. He missed her greatly.

“Have there been any rituals performed on either property — the house or the farm?” he asked. “Blood rituals, in particular.”

“Do you know who owned the house before James Roosevelt?” Agnes queried in return.

“Um, family by the name of Fitzgerald. Not much is known about them; just that they were never heard from again after that night.”

She nodded as she looked at each face before her. “I see. Well, then, you’ll be interested to know that the Fitzgerald’s worked for the Morgan’s for twenty years before being given that house for their growing family.

“Patrick Fitzgerald was the butler. His wife, Molly, was the housekeeper. The Morgan’s weren’t _Downton Abbey_ rich, mind you, but they were not hurting financially. They were good people by all accounts — both the Morgan’s and the Fitzgerald’s. It’s why Elizabeth Morgan arranged it with her husband to bequeath her family’s old home to Patrick and Molly.

“They had been with them five years by that time. Molly was five months pregnant and the servants’ quarters were going to be a bit cramped soon. So, they received the house as their anniversary bonus. They owned it outright. They made that house into a proper home to welcome their first born.

“On August 24, 1853, a horrible violence ran rampant throughout the town. Josiah Bueckner wasn’t the only one to die that night. The Morgan’s were found slain in their beds, as were their four children — two boys and two girls, none over the age of twelve. They never found the bodies of the Fitzgerald family. I don’t even want to think about what happened to them.”

Agnes shivered at the thought. 

A pregnant silence followed. All three had a feeling their friend wasn’t done yet.

They were right.

“One thing you should know about Elizabeth Morgan.” She waited a beat. “She was the only sibling of James Roosevelt.”

  
  
  
  
  


“He sold his soul and cursed his family just to get his home back?” Tomas asked incredulously. “All those lives lost because of a piece of _property_?!”

“James Roosevelt would do anything for his wife and son. A cold winter back then wasn’t the same as it is now. Those were brutal. With no roof overhead, they would have surely died. Not to mention, she was pregnant with their daughter at the time,” Agnes told him. “He didn’t know the repercussions would be so severe when he made the deal. The girl was stillborn. Agnes fell into a severe postpartum depression. She was never the same after that.”

“Wait! You and Roosevelt’s wife both have the same first name. Are you related?” 

Agnes smiled warmly. “No, Tomas. I moved here with my parents when I was fourteen. We were from California. No one from any branch of the Roosevelt family tree left the East Coast.

“Good on you for asking. Not everyone remembers that first names are just as likely to be shared as last names.”

“How on earth did you become an expert on the Roosevelts?” The other woman’s boundless knowledge impressed Mouse.

“A school project. I became obsessed with the town’s history when I had to write a paper on one aspect of its past. It was random. We drew scraps of paper out of a shoebox. I got the Roosevelt legend. It still fascinates me to this day.”

“You are a gift,” Marcus told her sincerely. “We are eternally grateful for your help and knowledge.”

Agnes blushed. “Oh, please! I’m just happy when someone shows an interest outside of Halloween or Friday the thirteenth.” She paused and caught Marcus’ eye. “You asked about blood rituals?”

He nodded. “Two properties where someone has gone to such lengths to keep them in the family. The farm sat unoccupied for years even though someone else owns it now. Curious if someone in the family found a way to hold onto it with less than normal methods. Also, are there any other family properties that you know of?”

“Sam Markwell doesn’t own the farm. He just manages the property. Well, John Mitchum keeps an eye on it these days. That boy won’t be around here much longer. I see him out west with a large place of his own someday soon. Anyway, that’s it in terms of properties. Christopher Roosevelt owned both the farm and the house right up until he died.”

Marcus sighed and ran his hands over his face. “Of course, he bloody did.”

“That storm last night had its fun with more than his shallow grave. Not a ritual or anything of the kind, I don’t think,” Agnes clarified. “This morning, while I was in the coffee shop on Montclair Avenue, I overheard someone say a pack of stray dogs had gathered around the picket fence out front of the Roosevelt place. The dogs barked and howled for twenty minutes before suddenly stopping.”

The trio shared a look that did not go unnoticed by Agnes.

“If it’s blood you want, those dogs’ bodies were found strewn on the sidewalk an hour ago.” 

She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her culottes, presenting it to them after calling up the story on the local newspaper’s website. The photos were deemed too graphic for a family-owned publication, but the story more than made up for it.

“The house is coming to life.” Agnes said simply.

“What do you mean? Like it’s possessed?” Tomas had read about houses being infested with demonic energy; even heard a story or two from Marcus and Mouse. But, if true, this would be his first encounter with such a phenomenon.

Agnes put down her phone and narrowed her eyes, glancing at each one of them. “You’re not history nuts. Nor are you students or reporters. You’re too smart to be one of those nitwit ghost chasers.” A long pause followed. “Exorcists?”

“What do you know about exorcists?” Marcus’ interest had been piqued.

“Only what I’ve seen in movies. That book by whatshisface with the three names scared the crap out of me when I was younger.” She leaned in toward Marcus. “You can even say it put the fear of God into me.”

“What? A hellraiser like you?” So, he was flirting. Nobody seemed to mind, least of all Agnes. 

“Takes one to know one,” Tomas quipped. The corner of his mouth quirked as his hazel eyes sparkled in the sunlight that streamed in from the windows to their left and behind them.

Marcus grinned and winked at him. “You would know.”

“Should have let the noose have me,” Mouse groaned. 

The older woman laughed heartily. “You’ll get used to it,” she assured her young friend. “I had two friends who fell for each other, too. Utterly obnoxious until I realized how stupidly happy they were. No, they were still obnoxious but, by then, I had met my husband and stopped caring.”

All three smiled warmly at their host. 

“Now,” Agnes said, bringing the conversation back around. “About the house. Yes, Tomas. It wouldn’t surprise me at this point if it _was_ possessed. The legend is true, after all. Perhaps the rumors about people entering at all hours and never leaving is also true. Could be their souls are trapped and that energy is being funneled into the house. Or maybe I watch too many movies.

“The Devil in Pennsylvania,” she marveled. 

“The Devil may own that house, but he doesn’t currently occupy it,” he retorted.

“You know the young man who took ownership from Christopher Roosevelt?”

“Yes. The house’s nature may be in question, but his is not. There is only one possession I know of for certain.” 

A note of regret tinged Agnes’ features. “I’m sorry. I hope you can save him.”

“That’s the plan,” Tomas declared.


	19. Chapter 19

Bennett watched from his safe place, the little room tucked away on the second floor, as animal control cleaned up the mess Erlik had made earlier this morning. The dogs had shown up as the storm began to wind down. It was a miracle their incessant racket didn’t have the entire neighborhood at their door.

Erlik had endured the noise for about an hour until it let them into the basement via the outside door to the right diagonally from the stairs. It made sure to keep the door locked in case of snooping neighbors; the few windows down there curtained as a result.

The canines’ enthusiasm had soon tempered. Bennett guessed they had been drugged. Had the god of death just started breaking necks right there, the noise would have woken the dead. It was just before dawn when he heard what sounded like a knife slicing through flesh.

He had chanced a trip downstairs from the second floor to the basement door — which was partially open — not daring to make his presence known any more than perhaps it had been. Leaning into the doorway to get a sense of what was happening, Bennett could hear the outside basement door open. Heavy footfalls on the concrete steps; then a slapping of a body on the sidewalk outside.

It was still dark enough, so Erlik would be undetected as no one in this neighborhood was up before six. The living room was pitch black, but Bennett had no problem navigating around the furniture. He observed his captor dumping the four dog bodies on the other side of the fence.

Then, the demon had done something else Bennett could not see due to the fencing. He had been about to turn away when Erlik rose, still wearing Anna’s guise. Their eyes locked for a long moment before she re-entered the house via the basement. He knew he should have taken advantage of the timing and gone back to his safe space, but Bennett remained.

“Where on earth have you been hiding, brother?” she had asked bemusedly, her eyes screaming annoyance.

“What were you doing with those dogs? After you dumped their bodies.”

“You’ve been ignoring me for so long, I had to find some way to amuse myself,” she had teased. “Have you finally come to your senses? Are you ready to submit completely?”

“No.” Bennett had decided bluntness was the only way to deal with this devil.

“Good, brother.” A sadistic grin twisted her lips. “It will be much more fun when you do so in the presence of your friends. They should be here soon. Not long now.”

“The dogs.” He couldn’t let her know just how much it unnerved him to know the end was almost here.

“Just leaving a couple messages to rile up the town. It’s really an invitation to the Gray Lion and his cub. I’m very excited to meet them in the flesh, brother.”

Anna had looked over her body, running a hand over her forearm. Though he saw his sister, Bennett knew to anyone else it would be _his_ hand running over _his_ forearm. The thought of Marcus and Tomas seeing him like this with Erlik in control of his body made his skin crawl.

“They won’t submit. Not for anything,” Bennett declared.

“Oh, brother,” she tsked. “They will if they think they are saving another. The greater good is a wonderful incentive when used correctly. Besides, after the hell they’ve been through they may welcome the freedom that comes with switching teams.”

She yawned. “I need my beauty sleep. No telling when they might arrive.”

Stepping into his personal space, Anna had taken his face in her hands. “Enjoy the time you have left, brother. It will be over before you know it. They can’t save you. No one can.”

Morphing back into his true form, Erlik announced, “ _You’re mine._ ”

He had captured Bennett’s mouth, pressing his thin lips against the other man’s. Bennett had been powerless at that moment; his power ceded to another against his will. A quick twist of the neck. A single crack. Then, the lights went out.

Upstairs now in his secret room, Bennett rubbed the back of his neck and wondered if Erlik would bother him again before his friends arrived. He had no doubt the demon god could enter his sacred space. 

Since that night saving Mouse, Bennett had learned this room only existed in his head. A glance at the upside down crucifix made him sigh. Bloody thing refused to stay upright, so he allowed it to hang in blasphemy figuring better it was there in some form. Also, it wouldn’t move from the wall.

The animal control workers had found the triple sixes carved into the hips of the beasts. Bennett rolled his eyes at the petty childishness of Erlik. No better than a fair number of humans he had encountered over the years. When one of the men asked about something written in blood on the concrete under the bodies, Bennett’s attention had been regained.

_Veniunt ad me._

“Come unto me,” Bennett recited. “Yes, that most definitely will get their attention.”

  
  
  
  


Stepping out onto the front porch of the historical society building, Marcus, Tomas, and Mouse took a moment to get their bearings following their insightful session with Agnes Butcher. They had parted ways with the older woman, who had an incoming tour group from one of the local elementary schools due to arrive within a half hour.

“Is there anything you can think of that makes the Roosevelt house valuable in a non-monetary sense?” Marcus had asked her as she escorted them out.

“No. It’s historical, but only in the way that folks travel up to Tarrytown, New York,” Agnes informed him. “Jacob Roosevelt is our Headless Horseman. The house is worth a pretty penny though. However, if you are leaning toward _other_ reasons, then I’m afraid I’m of no use to you. 

“Others have tried to pin Satanic legacies to the property. Turn it into our own Amityville Horror.” She paused. “Maybe you should turn your attention to New York. They seem to need it more.”

Marcus laughed. “One job at a time, luv. I’m not as young as you think.”

“Oh, please. You’re at least a decade younger than me.” She lowered her voice. “And fitter than most half your age.”

A blush flitted across his cheeks, accompanied by a bashful grin. “Cheeky bird.”

Agnes smiled. Then, she got back to the topic at hand. “This is the most activity the house has seen in ages. And the farm has been quiet since that night Josiah Bueckner hung himself or was hung depending on which version you believe.”

He shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“It was a good one,” she said encouragingly. “Let me give you my number in case you have any other thoughts. You can pass it to Mouse and Tomas. I try not to play favorites.”

“I don’t believe you,” Tomas told her with an impish grin on his lips.

While Marcus typed in the digits she gave him, Agnes winked at Tomas and glanced at Mouse.

The younger woman beamed. It was odd how much lighter Mouse felt since she had arrived in Preston. She thought of Lara, Halley Louise Jemson, and now Agnes. She even took John Mitchum into consideration. _This must be how Marcus and Tomas feel every time they make camp in a town. At least those they weren’t run out of upon threat of being burned at the stake._

Her thoughts drifted to Bennett and Tomas’ statement of intent in the library. Mouse’s gaze landed on Marcus. What wasn’t he telling her about Bennett? She hadn’t forgotten about their fight in the truck outside the motel the other day. What was it he had said that set her off?

Casting her mind back to that moment, which seemed so long ago now despite it being only yesterday, Mouse racked her memory. Bennett. Of course. She had mentioned how she believed he had been the one to rescue her from the noose. Somehow, it was the only thing that made sense. Even now, she held firm that belief.

Mouse had gone on to tell Marcus she thought he was getting his hopes up when it came to actually saving him. His soul had a chance, but she wasn’t as certain about his body. 

_I know what I saw._

The next moment they were officially saying goodbye to Agnes. Once back outside, Mouse grabbed Marcus by the wrist. He was distracted by something on the other end of the patio, so she caught him off-guard.

“What did you see?” Her eyes bore into his. A confluence of emotion circulated through her as the question hung in the air.

“Bennett,” he answered simply. “Twice.”

It wasn’t that Marcus had seen Bennett. Somehow, she had suspected as much even though the how stymied her just now. It was that he had seen Bennett more than once. His reply knocked the breath out of her and she struggled to catch it.

“That– That’s not possible.”

“And yet…”

The fight hummed in his posture; the way his muscles tensed. He hadn’t taken his eyes off hers. There was Tomas’ hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades. As always, Marcus took comfort in his presence. It was understood Tomas wanted him to take a beat — act, not react. 

Far as Marcus was concerned that solely depended on Mouse.

“You were seeing things,” she told him. “It was just a figment of your imagination.”

“I don’t tend to have conversations with imaginary friends. Never had that luxury and don’t see me earning it anytime soon,” he shot back.

“He’s not a bloody ghost, Marcus!” she hissed. 

It was growing more difficult keeping the volume of her voice in check. 

“I get that he means a lot to you, but he wasn’t there! We all want him back, but Tomas and I aren’t seeing him around every corner like a damn Starbucks. As for you having tea parties, maybe we should think twice about having you accompany us.”

“That’s enough!” Tomas stepped into the fray, now standing shoulder to shoulder with Marcus. “He has more right to be here than either of us. You have known Bennett for five seconds. A road trip does not make you bonded.”

“Worked for you,” she sniped. Mouse was feeling cornered so she lashed out. Her concern for Marcus was legitimate. If he was seeing things that weren’t there, she had to wonder if it was the strain of possibly losing a close friend or something else. Was it the work of whatever demon was inside Bennett?

“Nah, luv,” Marcus countered, now inches from her face. “This is good old-fashioned guilt. Who else have you lost since you left us in Connecticut? How many, my little church mouse?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it matters. Every life matters!” His eyes were wide as if pleading for Mouse to hear him. “That’s what keeps us accountable. Keeps us from turning into them. You chased Bennett all the way here. There was one point you lost him. That’s what you said.”

Amy Kwan’s face flashed in her mind. The girl from Woodstock, New York, who had integrated with a demon only to save her parents from torture. After killing Amy and saving her soul, Mouse had no idea where Bennett had gone. She had spent the next couple days mourning the family she had been unable to save and her own lack of conviction.

Bennett’s soul would have been saved and the demon residing within him banished had it not been for her own weakness. Not pulling the trigger was her biggest regret. The kicker was she never would have forgiven herself if she had. Now, Marcus was forcing her to confront her own issues for the greater good.

“I found him, didn’t I?” Mouse retorted defensively.

“And look what it nearly cost you,” Tomas pointed out.

“Et tu, Brute?” She was cross, but the anger was on a low simmer.

Tomas gave her a small smile. “Stronger together, right?”

Mouse snorted. Bit in the ass by her own epiphany. She really should have seen that coming.

“Where did you _see_ Bennett?” It was obvious from her tone, she didn’t fully believe him. On the other hand, her question proved she was willing to listen.

“The first time was in the men’s room at the Red Apple Diner.” Marcus took a step back, as did Tomas. “The second … in my old room at St. Aquinas.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked incredulously.

“Which part confused you more?” Tomas queried, not realizing his question could be taken in a way other than sincere.

Marcus bit back a grin. “I think she means the second bit, luv.”

“Actually, all of it,” Mouse admitted. Glancing at Tomas, she added. “You’re getting way too cheeky. I’m not sure I like it.”

“He loves my cheek,” he replied straight faced.

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” she retorted with a smirk. To Marcus, “You were about to tell me about Bennett the friendly ghost?”

“Maybe not here?” he suggested. “It’s a bit of a long story and I don’t need to become a fixture of the Preston Historical Society Tour.”

Mouse agreed. “We should find a bar. I feel like this is going to require a fair amount of alcohol.”

“So is this.” Marcus stepped back to reveal what he had been staring at before Mouse’s interrogation.

It was an enormous spider web, which filled the entire space between the wall of the house and the pillar opposite in the corner of the porch. The lining of the web contained a menagerie of small insects trapped. 

“Shit,” Mouse muttered.

“This can’t be good.” Tomas knew he was stating the obvious.

“We need a plan,” Marcus told them. “And a fucking good one at that.”

  
  
  
  


The call came just before the morning meeting commenced at Barker King Jackson Communications. Meg Jemson had been about to put her phone on silent as she did for every meeting when it rang. Her blood ran cold when she saw Preston Intermediate School on the caller ID.

Dinah Medden from the front office told her since Halley Louise hadn’t been in homeroom this morning, the school was obligated to check in to find out the reason for the girl’s absence. 

All thoughts vanished from Meg’s mind. Halley didn’t show up at school? That was impossible. She had seen her get on the bus and watched as the vehicle drove off. The same as every day right before Meg left for work. Her daughter wouldn’t leave the bus before it got to the school. So, where the hell was she?

Was she hurt? Was she ill? Had she gotten so good at lying she just skipped school without giving it a second thought?

No. Of course not. Halley wouldn’t do that. She liked her classes and teachers. Her friends were there.

Her friends. The four of them had homeroom together.

“Yes, sorry. I meant to call to inform you I would be keeping Halley home today. She had a fever this morning and didn’t sleep well last night.”

Perhaps she should be concerned about her own lying abilities considering how easily that one had slipped off her tongue.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m sorry to hear that,” Dinah said sincerely. “I hope she feels better soon.”

“Thank you. So do we.” Her mouth was dry, her tongue like sandpaper. “Out of curiosity, has anyone else from Halley’s homeroom called out today? Want to be sure it’s not contagious, whatever it is.”

“No. Everyone else was in their seat,” Dinah told her. “Sounds like an isolated incident.”

Meg honestly didn’t know if she should be terrified or relieved. Terrified was winning now. “That’s good. Thank you for calling, Dinah. Have a nice day.”

She hung up after Dinah returned the sentiment. Immediately, she headed to her boss’ office, catching him as he was about to head to the conference room. They had a quick chat where she told him something came up at home that needed her attention. 

He told her to take the rest of the day when she conceded it had to do with Halley Louise. Her boss had two children of his own and family leave was never an issue with him. She promised to be in touch. Five minutes later, she backed her car out of its parking spot and headed home.

“Call Morgan,” Meg told her vehicle’s Bluetooth once the phone was on speaker.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” He picked up on the third ring.

“Halley’s missing.”

“What?” The laidback tone was gone. In its place was one that matched his wife’s; one laced with fear and anxiety.

“The school called. She didn’t show up for homeroom. Morgan, I saw her get on that damn bus. I watched when it pulled away. _She fucking waved._ ”

“I believe you. We’ll find her, okay? We will. I’m coming home. I’ll meet you there.”

Meg blinked away the tears that were blurring her vision. The last thing she needed was to get into an accident while her daughter was God knows where.

“Yep. See you soon.” She punched the disconnect button on her steering wheel. “Where are you, baby?” 

The thought of God lingered with her. Halley Louise had told her last night about how she had been talking with God the past few weeks. How the notebook hadn’t been for a school project. That Tomas, Mouse, and Marcus were soldiers of His who were here to fight the evil in the house on the corner.

She had asked for her daughter’s permission to look through the notebook. However, Halley had given it to Mouse. Perhaps it was just as well. Meg knew all about the house’s history and the local legend thanks to their neighbors. Even the Realtor had been keen to point out the place as a prime reason to buy their home.

Morgan hadn’t been impressed, but admitted it was pretty cool to live down the street from such a prestigious house. When she told him what she had learned, he rolled his eyes and laughed. Nothing had come of it until a few weeks ago. The scream heard around the neighborhood had kickstarted a new chapter.

It was then, Meg had started noticing the changes in her daughter. She had said as much to Tomas in the kitchen yesterday. 

Tomas who was an exorcist. 

Tomas whose friends were also exorcists.

The driveway was empty when she pulled up in front of the garage. Before she got out of the car, she closed her eyes. It couldn’t hurt and they needed all the help they could get right now. 

“I know we don’t talk a lot and I’ve never really asked for anything from you, but I’m asking now. You’ve been talking to Halley for two weeks now. You chose her to keep an eye out while your soldiers made their way here. Now, she’s missing and I can’t help but think it’s related. 

“My baby girl should not be messed up with demons and evil. She’s twelve! She should be hanging out with her friends, going to slumber parties, talking about boys or girls or both, having movie nights with her dad and me. _That_ should be her reward for helping You, not … not this.

“Please return Halley to us safe and sound.” Meg paused. “Please let Tomas, Mouse, and Marcus be victorious in their mission to rid that house of the evil within, and let them be safe and sound, as well. Amen.”

A knock on the driver’s side window made her jump. She let out a short scream and relaxed when she saw it was Morgan.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” he asked, confused. “I thought for sure you’d be in the house already.”

Meg got out of the car and locked it with her keyless remote. “I needed to do something first.” 

“Pray.”

“Yes.”

Last night in bed, she had told him everything Halley Louise said along with meeting Tomas and Mouse that afternoon. Morgan didn’t know what to make of it all. He wasn’t religious in any sense. The idea of God talking to his daughter and exorcists in their home made him uneasy.

His girls seemed to be taking it all in stride, which had confounded and amazed him. After sleeping on it, he had decided it didn’t bother him as much as he would have thought. He didn’t know what long-term effect, if any, this development would have on his family. Until that became evident, he had decided to just let it drop.

Morgan now followed his wife into their home. They called out for their daughter, each taking a level of the house. He also canvassed the backyard and checked the shed just to be certain.

Meg went through their bedroom and the spare room before going into Halley Louise’s room. She didn’t know why she didn’t just go into her daughter’s room first. It made the most sense. Postponing the inevitable perhaps.

The girl’s room was just as she had left it that morning. Her mother had gone through it as usual to make sure nothing had been left behind. She sank down onto the foot of Halley’s bed, her gaze landing for a moment on the row of leather notebooks on her bookshelf. 

There was something different about them. She got up to take a closer look. They were askew. Before they had all been pushed back and lined up. Also, the color coding was off. Shit. Someone had been here. Meg’s eyes swept the room again, taking her time.

Then, she saw it — sitting on the windowsill next to the bed. It hadn’t been there this morning. She picked up the figurine, turning it around as she held it with her fingers. The small piece had been carved from wood and appeared to be an animal of some sort. A bear, she realized.

Glancing up, her eyes shifted to the right where the Roosevelt house stood across the street. At that moment, Meg knew in her bones that’s where her baby girl would be found.

“She’s not here,” Morgan announced from the doorway. “We need to start making phone calls. Where’s that phone tree they gave out last month when school started?”

There was no response.

He closed the gap between them until he was standing behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gave them a squeeze as he kissed the back of her head. 

“Meg. We can’t just stand here.” Morgan noticed the figure his wife was holding. “Where did that come from?”

She pulled out her phone from the front pocket of her trousers. Scrolling through her contacts, she found the name she was looking for and selected it.

Her husband saw who she was calling. “You can’t be serious. We don’t need them. We need a cop, a detective. Someone who can actually help.”

“They are the only ones who can help,” she replied coldly as she waited for someone on the other end of the line to pick up.

“Tomas? It’s Meg Jemson. Halley’s gone. She’s been taken and I think you know by whom.”


	20. Chapter 20

As soon as she got back in the pickup truck after her pow wow with the guys on the front porch of the Preston Historical Society, Mouse sent Lara a text telling her the meeting went well and that she would fill her in later. She added Lara should let her know when she was off work.

Her cheeks flamed as soon as she hit send. It was too much that last bit about letting her know when Lara was done with her shift. Wasn’t it? Mouse knew it was the truth, which was why she wrote it. How the hell did people date without completely losing their mind? 

When she pulled into the motel parking lot, her qualms about text etiquette were forgotten. Marcus and Tomas walked up to her as she stuck the key in the lock. She flipped the switch to let some light into the room since she kept the curtains closed. At least the maid seemed to be adhering to the Do Not Disturb sign she had been leaving on the doorknob since she checked into the place.

“Alright.” Mouse sat on the dresser opposite the beds. The wall behind her was covered with their notes, which all but obscured the mirror there. “You said you saw Bennett twice. Tell me about the second time. You said you talked to him. What did he say?”

Marcus took notice of her body language. Her hands were resting on top of the dresser, her legs spread apart. She was looking directly at him, her features open. These were all good signs. So, he told her everything; just as he had the night before with Tomas.

“Erlik.” Mouse drummed her fingers on the dresser top after he finished his account. She was staring off to the left at a spot on the carpeted floor. “Erlik. I know that name.”

A second later, it hit her. “He’s the god of death in Mongolian mythology. So, the bodies in the basement were a sacrifice to get you to switch teams? How does that make sense?”

“If you were the god of death and looking to recruit two who were purportedly high on God’s Christmas card list, wouldn’t you want to show off?” Marcus pointed out.

Tomas opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. He made a second attempt, but again thought better of it.

With a squeeze of his boyfriend’s knee, Marcus urged, “Spit it out, luv.”

“We already guessed it was a vocare pulvere ceremony gone wrong. Multiple ceremonies.” Tomas corrected himself. “We know the hosts don’t last long regardless. It’s obvious these poor people burned out almost immediately. But why?”

Mouse shook her head. “I’ve never heard of a host flaming out like that.”

“Of course not,” Marcus said. “Bad PR. Maria Walters was dead in six months, right? You and Bennett saw her in Chicago right before you came to Washington.”

He stood up from the bed and began to pace the length of the room. “What if, in their haste to fatten their recruitment numbers, they’re shoving demons down people’s throats willy nilly? No vetting; just, ‘Here, have a demon.’

“It might explain the change in plan from killing me and Tomas to making us the poster boys of the revolution. Those poor sods would be the perfect bait.”

Try as she might, Mouse couldn’t argue with Marcus. “Shit.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. The future suddenly looked bleaker than ever. It was a few minutes before Tomas broke it.

“What do you know about Erlik, Mouse? Bennett didn’t give Marcus any details.”

She tried to remember her lessons from when she studied exorcism. There had been a demonology course offered by one of the nuns in her convent. Only a few of the novitiates had taken it. Mouse had jumped at the chance because of Marcus. Back then, she had no idea those lessons would prove useful in her line of work.

“Involved in the creation of humanity. Teacher of sin. He’s represented by a bear, I think. We didn’t spend much time on him. It was a short class, only a few weeks. Plus, it was years ago.”

Tomas did a quick search on his phone. “Apparently, evil spirits he created cause misfortune, sickness, and death to mankind.”

“The Roosevelt family,” Marcus remarked. “James Roosevelt didn’t make a deal with the Devil that night. He made it with Erlik.”

“Why doesn’t that feel like good news?” Tomas lamented.

“But it is,” Mouse assured him. “We know Bennett’s running out of time, which means _Erlik_ is running out of time. It’s no better than any other demon. It can’t live outside of its host.”

“I swear to God, Mouse, if you’re taking this where I think you are…” Marcus warned with a growl.

She put up a hand as a gesture of patience. “Then, we better make damn sure we save Bennett. Otherwise, as you both know, it is our only option. And I _will_ pull that trigger.”

“So our great plan is to do what we always do,” Tomas said. “Whatever we can in order to vanquish the demon and save the innocent.”

“Erlik isn’t going to let you in, Tomas.” Mouse hated pointing out the obvious, but she needed to know they both understood. “Not with so much at stake. It knows what you can do.

“What you both can do,” she added, giving Marcus a side glance. “You’ve lost two out of hundreds? That’s a batting average that would make any exorcist jealous let alone a god. Erlik is going to work out quickly — if it hasn’t already — that you’re not switching teams.

“God help us when we face it because I’m pretty sure He’ll be the only reason we survive.”

  
  
  
  


“The more I read about Erlik, the less I’m looking forward to going up against it.” 

Tomas was sitting on their bed in his and Marcus’ motel room with Mouse’s laptop open. She had left them to go cash in the offer of a drink with John Mitchum. When Tomas asked to borrow her computer, she told him to knock himself out. He had been surprised when he spotted it in her room. Turns out, she got it cheap at a pawn shop in the town she had stopped in before coming to Preston.

“You were looking forward to it prior to now?” Marcus questioned, raising an eyebrow. He was on the other bed with a Bible open in his lap and a charcoal pencil in his right hand.

“Well, no,” Tomas admitted. “But I had more confidence than I do now.”

He noticed Marcus wasn’t using the notebook he had bought him. “Is that the motel’s Bible?”

“Like they’ll notice.” Marcus went back to “redacting” the page he was working on before Tomas interrupted. “If you’re not learning anything useful, then it’s time to put it away.”

Tomas removed his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Shame that,” Marcus quipped as the corner of his mouth quirked.

A grin of his own formed on Tomas' lips. “If you had your way, I would never take these off.”

“Those are definitely the one thing I want you to keep on,” Marcus purred.

Their banter took some of the tension out of the room. Tomas closed the laptop and pushed it aside. “What _is_ our plan?” He planted his feet on the floor, facing Marcus. “I know the objective, but are we really just going to wing it once we’re in? It’s a god, Marcus.”

The fear in Tomas’ voice was hard to miss. Marcus patted the spot next to him which his partner took. He cupped Tomas’ cheek and gazed into his rich hazel eyes with certainty. 

“I know you’re scared. You should be. I know I am. You’re right. It _is_ a god. There is no strategy with these things. We know what our job is and we have faith God will guide us on our mission. Should we pray?”

A nod from Tomas was his reply.

“Do you want to do the honors or should I?”

“Let me,” Tomas said. 

He placed a hand over the one Marcus had on his cheek. Moving his head, he pressed a kiss into the palm before bringing it together with Marcus’ other hand. 

Clasping hands, they bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

“Lord, we seek your strength and guidance as we prepare for battle against this most powerful adversary,” Tomas began. “Your words are our light and we will use them to keep away the darkness. 

Let us feel Your presence in this time of stress and anxiety. Our fears weaken us even though we fight to end them. May we feel Your love in our hearts to bolster our strength. May we see with the kind of clarity only You can inspire. 

“We know You walk with us always. Amen.”

“Amen.” Marcus pressed his forehead against his partner’s. “Did it help?”

Tomas squeezed his lover’s hands. “It did. Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me for praying with you. It’s a privilege I’m proud to have.”

Their lips met, chastely finding each other more than once. Before they could deepen the next kiss, Marcus’ phone buzzed repeatedly from its place on the nightstand between the beds.

His groan and eye roll as he pulled away from Tomas to grab the device earned a chuckle from his boyfriend.

Seeing who had sent the texts changed Marcus’ demeanor from annoyed to intrigued.

_“Hey, Marcus. It’s Blue Tortorella from the property tax office. I hope it’s cool I text you. You know about the incident at the Roosevelt house this a.m. right? I saw these photos from the scene on this blog I love. They were not in the local news coverage._

_“The one with the dogs is disgusting, but it’s the one with the Latin that made me think of you. What with your background. Here’s the link._

_“Hope this helps!”_

Marcus tapped the link, which opened to a story on the dead dogs. He scrolled straight to the photos. The cutlines revealed their corpses had been mutilated; triple sixes carved into the hips and blood used to write a message on the sidewalk. The words had been hidden under the bodies.

The blood drained from his face when he saw the message.

Tomas watched him intently, not liking when his boyfriend went pale. “Marcus? What is it?”

The dark blond swallowed. “Blue? The girl I told you about? She sent a link to some photos from where those dogs were killed in front of the Roosevelt house.”

The room began to spin, so he closed his eyes and handed the phone over. Then, with one eye momentarily open, Marcus grabbed Tomas’ reading glasses for him.

“Dios mío. ¡Ese bastardo enfermo!” 

The images of the canines enraged Tomas, while making him a touch ill. He always found it easier to slip into Spanish when he was emotional. 

He gripped the nape of Marcus’ neck when the other man dipped his head onto Tomas’ shoulder. As he scrolled down to the next photo, he massaged the spot.

“Está bien, nena. Te tengo,” Tomas murmured soothingly. His heart tightened at the sight of his love so vulnerable.

“Is this what you wanted me to see? My Latin is a bit rusty.” As soon as he said it, he realized the caption would have the translation.

There hadn't been much cause for Tomas to use it outside of the Holy Days of Obligation when some of St. Anthony's congregants would attend an early morning Latin Mass separate from those delivered in English and Spanish. 

“Matthew 11:28,” Marcus mumbled before Tomas could scroll down.

The younger man’s Latin may have out of practice, but his knowledge of scripture remained intact. “‘Come unto me….’”

“‘...all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,’” Marcus recited, finishing the verse. “Subtle Erlik is not.”

“Join or die.”

Marcus pushed himself upright only to fall back onto the pillows against the headboard. “You got it.”

“But that’s not why you went pale,” Tomas surmised.

“No. It brought back a memory from a bygone time.”

“What memory?” He pushed his glasses up his nose.

A grin slowly spread across Marcus’ lips. “Of Bennett.”

Tomas knew the meaning behind the grin had everything to do with his glasses. “A good memory?”

The mirth dimmed slightly. “A memorable one.” After a few seconds, the light returned to his bright blue eyes. “So now what, _Professor Ortega_?”

This could only lead to somewhere fun and Tomas wanted nothing more right now than to have a very good time with his lover.

“While your knowledge of Latin and scripture is impeccable, you still have a lot to learn, Señor Keane.” 

For added effect, he let his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose so he could look at Marcus over the top of the rims.

It worked. Marcus licked his lips, shifting his position to accommodate the growing bulge in his jeans. “Guess you better teach me a lesson then, professor.”

Climbing up the long, lithe body of the man he loved, Tomas vowed, “Oh, I will.”

He nudged Marcus’ crotch with his nose and mouthed it. The low moan that came from Marcus made him smile. Pushing up his glasses, he continued moving up until he captured Marcus’ mouth.

The older man took Tomas’ face in his hands and parted his lips when Tomas demanded entry. He moaned into his lover’s mouth as Tomas grinded against him, both clothed cocks hard.

Alas, they never got any further.

Tomas’ phone rang, interrupting their good time. He wanted desperately to ignore it, but his intuition told him he shouldn’t. So, after taking a moment to collect himself — and receiving a kiss on the shoulder from Marcus — he answered.

When he learned it was Meg Jemson calling, his heartbeat stilled and time seemed to slow down. He knew instinctively something was wrong. 

Then, she confirmed it.

_Halley’s gone. She’s been taken and I think you know by whom._

  
  
  
  


After her conversation with Marcus and Tomas took on a more ominous tone than usual, Mouse needed a drink. She rang John Mitchum to officially take him up on his offer. He happily accepted and texted her the address to Rooster’s Tavern, which was about a twenty-minute drive. As it turned out, he had another property to check on and the bar was in the middle.

She kicked the guys out of her room and headed out herself a couple minutes later. As she drove with assistance from her phone’s GPS, the steeple of a church loomed in the near distance.

St. John Bosco sat on the left, an oasis in the desert. Mouse pulled into the near-empty parking lot. 

“Good thing it ain’t Sunday,” she mumbled.

Unzipping her black duffle, she rummaged around till she found what she was looking for and headed inside. The nave held a few people in its pews, none taking any notice of her. She spotted the source of her interest: a font of holy water. It was situated in the back of the room under a window near the door so parishioners could partake before entering the nave proper.

Eyes constantly surveying her surroundings, Mouse waited a beat till she was satisfied no one was paying attention. Then, she unzipped her folded kit unveiling a set of six syringes. With her back to the wall below the window, she filled each one. It took two minutes at most. There was a backup set of three under the front seat of the truck ready to go.

Before she took her leave, Mouse walked down to the front of the nave. She knelt before the crucifix, bowing her head and made the sign of the cross before her.

“Amen.”

She was out the door without incident and back on the road a minute later.

  
  
  
  


Rooster’s Tavern was easy enough to find. The place was fond of dark wood as both the exterior and interior would attest. Dim lighting allowed the regulars to enjoy a vampiric existence as they sucked down their bottles of beer and reacted strongly when the door swung open letting sunlight stream in momentarily.

John Mitchum, sat at a table near the back, caught Mouse’s eye and raised a hand. She joined him on the opposite side of the booth, flashing him an awkward yet friendly smile. When the waitress arrived, Mouse pointed at the beer her friend had before him and he told the older woman to make it two.

“This is where you tell me what brings you to Preston and how the hell you ended up in my barn the other night.” There was no threat in his tone, but his interest was real.

Mouse waited for their drinks before launching into the bare bones version. She took a long swig. Then, she proceeded to tell him how she tracked someone to town, which led to the carnival and her following the person to the barn, where he attacked her.

He listened as she spoke, finishing the bottle he had started earlier when she stopped. “This person is the new owner of the Roosevelt house?”

Damn, he was quick. He reminded her of Lara in that respect. Mouse shouldn’t have been surprised. The short amount of time she had spent in his company proved as much. Even Agnes Butcher admitted she saw him moving on to bigger and better things. She really did need to stop underestimating people. Maybe.

“Yes. Do yourself a favor and stay the hell away from the place.”

“You believe the legend then?” He leaned forward on his forearms a hand clasped over his other wrist. “Or is this about the dogs?”

“I believe the legend to an extent and Agnes Butcher a hell of a lot more. The dogs only prove that the owner is a sadistic prick with an axe to grind.” She took another pull from her beer.

“Against whom? You? Your friends?”

Honesty with strangers was not her strong suit. More to the point, honesty which revealed something of herself. Mouse fidgeted in her seat and picked at the label on the bottle in front of her. “Us. ... The world.”

“The world?”

She had his full attention now. Prior to this moment, he had been intrigued by the mystery woman who had survived being hanged. After this morning, she had proved even more beguiling with her and friends’ knowledge of the Roosevelt house and its history.

It was then, Mouse noticed the chain around his neck. It was tucked underneath the short-sleeved, button up shirt he now wore as opposed to the one he had on earlier with the sleeves rolled up. This shirt was open at the collar.

“What’s that?” She pointed at the silver chain.

“Protection.” He pulled out the other end of the chain to reveal a crucifix attached.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Mouse fell against the back of the booth. It never occurred to her that he was religious. She had thought maybe a wedding band was attached or dog tags.

“Let’s hope not,” John said with a half-grin though he meant every word. “You have to save us from the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Only this one won’t huff and puff to blow the house down,” she warned. “It’s much more insidious than that. By the time it’s done, all it’ll have to do is knock on the door. It wins when we give it attention.”

A heavy silence lingered at the table, pregnant with meaning. Their eyes locked on each other. Neither said a word for a few minutes. They drank their beers; barely noticing when the waitress returned with fresh bottles and took away the empty ones.

“You’re not a bounty hunter,” he surmised.

The corner of her mouth quirked. “Aren’t I?”

John shook his head. He couldn’t quite figure it out. There was truth in her answer, but it played like a riddle. The crucifix felt weighted against his chest. A notion sprung to mind. “You’re with the Church.”

He caught the flicker of recognition in her eyes. However, a bounty hunter for the Church made no sense. Anyone who worked for the organization wouldn’t track down people for a profit. Would they? There was something niggling in the back of his brain that told him he was close.

Mouse watched him intently. She could see him trying to work out the answer. Damn it. Why did she have to shoot her mouth off? Glaring at the beer as if it were to blame, she pushed it aside. 

She was about to tell him not to worry about it, when he asked a question.

“Are you an exorcist?”

Fuck. She sighed and shrugged. “Yes.”

“So, you’re a nun.”

“No. It … didn’t work out. My devotion to God never wavered, so here we are. The owner of the Roosevelt house is a dark entity who possessed my friend, who I tracked here. You know the rest. Or at least enough to make you dangerous.”

John took a good, long pull of his beer. He downed half the bottle in one go. “Your friend who saved you that night was the same person who hung you?”

“The thing inside him tried to kill me. My friend saved me.” Mouse felt it was important he understood the distinction.

“Aren’t you glad we didn’t go for coffee like you originally suggested?” She felt the need to lighten the mood — even a little.

He stared at her for a moment. Then, a chuckle bubbled out of him, building to a hearty laugh. After a few seconds, she joined him. It was either that or cry. She hated crying.

Eventually, the laughter died away.

“How bad is this? John asked soberly. “On a scale of pipe bomb to nuclear.”

Mouse eyed the beer bottle she had pushed away, then stole another swig. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“If we succeed.”

“And if you don’t?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You really like the hard questions, don’t you?”

This time, it was his turn to shrug. “I like to know what I’m getting into.”

A moment passed as she considered him. “Fair. Nuclear.”

“ _Shit._ ”

“Fuck is more appropriate because that is what we will be. Fucked. Totally. Completely. Royally.”

John picked up his bottle and raised it in a toast. “May God bless you and keep you.”

She lifted her bottle. “May He bless us and keep us all.”

They touched the tips, the glass clinking.

“Amen,” he said.

Mouse had just swallowed when her phone rang. “Tomas? What’s—” She listened; the conversation was short. “I’m on my way.”

“What happened?” John asked, fearing the worst.

“The beginning of the end.” She was out the door and into the light before he could say anything more.

  
  
  
  


No sooner had the front door opened than Tomas found himself on the receiving end of a hug. Meg Jemson had flung her arms around him, squeezing him tight for a moment before letting him go. She stood to the side to let him pass before giving Marcus the same treatment.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Marcus,” she whispered as she released him.

“Same,” he replied quietly. “I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

Marcus gave her arm a squeeze, then followed Tomas.

Morgan Jemson stood in the living room, waiting for their guests to enter. Meg made the introductions and invited them to sit. Meg, Marcus, and Tomas took the couch, while Morgan sat in his recliner.

“Mouse isn’t with you?” Meg asked the pair.

“She is on her way,” Tomas replied.

“Tell us what happened,” Marcus requested, glancing at the parents.

Quickly, Meg rehashed the events leading up to her calling Tomas. 

“Mouse left me both your number and hers before she left yesterday. You were the first person I thought of,” she explained.

Looking at Marcus, she added, “You’re the one who went in there. What was it like? Halley seemed worried about you. She told Tomas to go check on you. Are you willing to go back and ... find our baby?”

He took her hand and held it; his eyes locked with hers. “I did go into the house. That is something I will not share with you other than to say, I pray you never experience anything like it. Halley Louise is a very brave, smart, wonderful girl. I am very grateful to her for sending Tomas out to check on me. I’m worried about her now, but we will do everything in our power to bring her home to you both.”

Marcus made sure to shift his gaze to include Morgan in his promise. The other man’s eyes met his; nodding to indicate he understood.

“We want the same thing you do,” Tomas chimed in. “For her to be safe and sound with the two of you. Has she interacted with the house in any way other than what you told me yesterday?”

Both shook their heads.

“We’re not with her all the time, especially during the week,” Morgan admitted. “Meg and I both work till five or six, and don’t get home until maybe a half-hour later. 

“The babysitter says Halley never spoke to anyone once she came home from school unless she had plans with friends. Even then, she made sure Halley only got into the car when a parent was driving. One of her friends has an older sibling who recently got their license, but Meg and I nixed that right away.”

A flash of grin hit Marcus’ lips. “Sounds like you keep an eye out even when you’re not around. Tell me. When did you last speak to your sitter?”

“Right after I hung up with Tomas,” Meg told him. “Morgan called and put her on speaker. We had the conversation down here. It freaked me out too much to have it in Halley’s room. That’s where we were when I called you.”

Tomas’ smile was reassuring. “We’re very glad you did. We can only imagine what you’re both going through right now.”

“Honey, the bear,” Morgan reminded.

“What bear?” Marcus and Tomas said simultaneously. Their posture went rigid as fear and suspicion flooded their features.

Meg held the figure in her fist, not liking their reaction. “We found it on the windowsill in her room. It was just sitting there.”

“Show us,” Tomas encouraged.

She opened her hand to reveal the wood carving.

“Marcus….” Tomas whispered.

He nodded; eyes rooted to the figure. “A totemic bear. It’s him.”

“Who?” Morgan demanded, moving to the edge of his chair. “Who’s this piece of shit who has our little girl?”

“A demon,” Tomas declared. “A god of death, to be precise. Its name is Erlik and it has taken possession of our friend.”

“Oh, God!” Meg exclaimed as her husband gaped at both men.

“So, not _just_ a demon but the god of death has Halley?!” He was trying in vain to wrap his head around what he had just heard.

“ _A_ god of death. There is more than one floating around,” Marcus clarified. “The bottom line is this is not your typical demon. It is more powerful and dangerous in light of its god status.”

“‘Typical demon,’” Morgan mumbled. “Not the conversation I expected to be having today … or ever.” He ran a hand over his face. “Just tell what we need to do.”

“I take it you filled him in on our conversation?” Tomas surmised, addressing Meg.

She nodded.

“Good,” he told her. “That at least makes this part easier.”

“All you need to do,” Marcus said, addressing the parents, “is stay here, pray if that’s your thing, and let us do our jobs. If you try to help, you’ll only get in our way and make things worse. If we need you, you’ll know. Understood?”

It took them a moment for each to comprehend that they were being told to stand down. How could they do so when their only child had been taken from them by someone — some _thing_ — that lived just down the street?

Yet one look at each other and they knew that was exactly what they must do if they wanted the best chance for their daughter’s safe return. So, they did what any good parent would do and agreed to the conditions that lay before them.

The doorbell rang and Morgan went to answer it.

“I think someone went through her journals,” Meg said suddenly. “When I was up there earlier, I noticed they weren’t positioned like they usually are. They had been pulled out and not quite put back.”

“They were looking for this,” Mouse announced, holding up the red notebook Halley had given her. “It’s Halley’s notes from her surveillance of the Roosevelt house. Girl is thorough, I will give her that. In fact, I told her that when she gave it to me.”

“But there was nothing significant in there. We went over it,” Tomas noted.

“Erlik doesn’t know that. It only knows she was spying,” Marcus pointed out. “It’s tying up loose ends.”

“She doesn’t know anything!” Mouse protested before the Jemson’s could.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t she though? She’s acting as a prophet of the Lord, Mouse. Whether the gig is long-term or temporary doesn’t matter. It knows she’s blessed and with her surveillance that’s enough.”

“You think she’s a prophet?” Tomas asked.

“How else do you explain her knowing we were coming?” Marcus countered. “Her keeping tabs on the comings and goings of that bloody house? She sent you after me yesterday knowing I would need you.”

“She also said she saw you leaving the house from her bedroom window. But I see your point.”

“How did I not see it?” Mouse wondered.

“You had the pleasure of getting to know her,” he told her simply. “You saw a bright girl, not an instrument of God.”

“I got too close.”

“No.” Tomas was firm. “Seeing the person is the most important thing. I am so proud of you.”

“We all need a friend, Mouse,” Marcus reminded.

“She’s really fond of you,” Meg added, getting Mouse’s attention. “She wouldn’t stop talking about you after you left.”

“It’s true,” Morgan said. “I thought she meant an actual mouse at first, but she set me straight.”

The warm feeling that started in her chest and spread outward wasn’t one with which she had a lot of experience in her life. Prior to her arrival in Preston, she had only felt it a few other times. Two of which were sitting in front of her and the third was fighting for his life down the road.

It surprised her to know she was still capable of this basic human emotion after everything she had seen and done. Also, it was comforting. Perhaps, there was hope for her yet.

That said, she wasn’t completely sure it was a good thing.

Just then, a series of thumps came from outside. The group of them spread out with the Jemson’s heading to the patio doors and the trio opening the front door. What they saw stunned and horrified them.

Birds have long been associated as harbingers of demonic activity. However, neither Marcus, Tomas nor Mouse had ever seen anything quite like this. The creatures were raining down on the house: owls and crows were the chosen. They were dead the second they hit a surface, whether it be roof, driveway, vehicle or sidewalk. 

A few seconds later, it was done. The occurrence had ended as quickly as it had begun. Feathered corpses littered the property. It was an unsettling sight, but the message was clear.

The time had come to meet Erlik.


	21. Chapter 21

**Algiers, Algeria — Seven years ago**

“ _I cast you out, evil spirit! In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I CAST YOU OUT!_ ” Marcus shouted, spit flying from his mouth. 

Bennett stood next to him, continuing the recitation of the exorcism ritual.

Dried blood covered the pregnant woman’s lower mouth and jaw. Her arms and legs had been secured to limit the amount of harm the demon possessing her could do, but that hadn’t stopped it from working from within. 

In the three days since the exorcists had arrived, her skin had become sallow; her bones more pronounced; and her life, as well as the baby’s, hung in the balance. If they didn’t save her now, they both would be lost.

Marcus had encouraged her throughout to fight back if not for herself than for her child. Almost at the last minute, Bennett saw the change in the woman. It was extraordinary and had distracted him from the task at hand.

At this critical juncture, for reasons only he knew, Bennett offered himself to the demon in exchange for their ward. “Take me! Leave her and come into me!” 

A surly reprimand from Marcus after he pulled him aside to knock sense back into the novice’s head had put Bennett back on track.

“Why are you even bothering, Father Devon?” The demon spat. “You couldn’t save your sister. Abandoning her for richer pastures the second you had the chance. How much cock did you have to suck to get here? A man like you doesn’t rise in such a pale organization without a bit of quid pro quo, no?”

Bennett ignored the demon, focusing on the ritual. He refused to take the bait. Even as he spoke, though, he could feel Marcus’ eyes on him. Sure enough, they were as the older man wondered what had happened with his protégé’s sibling.

Even with this development, Marcus hadn’t missed the spark in those brown eyes he had been staring into for seventy-two hours. Her face had shown recognition of the priests standing at the foot of her bed before the demon regained control.

“Really, Devon,” the demon taunted. “She never forgave you for leaving. She cursed your name as they beat her and did all sorts of nasty things to her. You were the worst brother. Just as well you hide yourself away in the Church. Better if no one has to deal with you.”

“ _Lies!_ ” Bennett shouted.

The demon smiled, contorting the woman’s mouth unnaturally.

“If you can’t help me save her, then get out!” Marcus roared. “I don’t need the distraction.”

A long moment passed as Bennett took stock of himself. “I can do this,” he assured his mentor. “I’m ready.”

True to his word, nothing else the demon said affected him. His thoughts were consumed with the woman trapped inside her own body. It was several more hours until they finally banished the demon.

Once Marcus confirmed the woman was herself and free of any evil entities, he called for the doctor. The man lived nearby and was on the scene a few minutes later. The priests were kicked out of the bedroom as the woman was looked after by the physician and her grandmother.

Marcus and Bennett stuck around long enough to ensure both the woman and her baby were healthy. Once assured by the doctor that mother and child would be fine with proper medical attention and bedrest — he called their survival a miracle; a fact neither Marcus nor Bennett disputed — they headed out. Dawn had arrived and with it the promise that came with a new day.

They headed nowhere in particular. Despite the exhaustion they felt for not getting a proper rest in days, neither felt like going home. So, they wandered around in silence; the city slowly coming to life around them.

“You nearly blew my record,” Marcus told Bennett after some time had passed.

“I’m sure you’ll do that all on your own in due time,” the younger man retorted.

“Perhaps, but not today.” Despite conceding the point, there was a cockiness in his tone. “Thank you for your service.”

Bennett spun around, crowding Marcus’ personal space. “She’s alive because of _both of us_. It was my first exorcism and I fucked up because that’s what happens when you do something like this for the first time. But that demon was strong. Even _I_ know the great Marcus Keane isn’t infallible despite what his bloated ego may think.”

“Well, well. Someone has a healthy account of his self-worth. Good. You’ll need it.”

Suddenly, being so close to Marcus seemed uncomfortable and more than a bit rude. Bennett took a couple steps back. His eyes remained on his mentor.

“How much of that about your sister is true?” Marcus asked.

“I left Punia at a young age,” Bennett confessed after hesitating a beat. “My sister was my only family I truly cared about. We were everything to each other. The Church found me, took me in and, as much as I adored her, I took too long to come back for her. I never located her. She could be alive or dead.”

Marcus squeezed the other man’s shoulder. “I’m truly sorry about that. I hope one day you’ll get the answers you seek.”

Bennett nodded. “Thank you.”

They resumed walking, knowing it wouldn’t be much longer before they went their separate ways. The siren’s call of their beds was luring them. Also, now the exorcism was complete, it would be off to someplace new for each of them.

As they passed one of the shops, the sounds of The Jackson Five’s “ABC” floated faintly in the air.

“You did good in there,” the older man admitted. “I was concerned you’d be all books, no sense. Happy to see I was wrong.”

A wry smile lifted the corner of Bennett’s mouth. “The books came in handy with repetition. I can see that’s where the power is. But I’m smart enough to know when to lead and when to follow. You’re a sight to behold during an exorcism, Marcus.

“That said, you are a complete pain in the ass otherwise. I appreciate the privilege of experiencing both.”

The boisterous laugh that exploded out of Marcus brought a warm smile to Bennett’s lips.

“It takes one to know one,” the dark blond quipped. “You’re not going into the field, are you?”

Surprise colored Bennett’s features.

Marcus shrugged. “I’m good at gauging people. You’d be good at it, but it’s not what you want.”

“No, it’s not. You’re wrong though. I will be assisting other exorcists for the next few years or so. It will be good to have the experience under my belt.”

“Technicality,” Marcus snorted. “What desk job do you have your eye on?”

“I don’t know. The Church seems to have a plan for me.”

“That they have yet to fully disclose.”

Bennett looked at him pointedly. “Your paranoia has nothing to do with me. That and your overall punk rock attitude will get you excommunicated one day.”

“There’s nothing wrong with punk rock. Though I’m more of a Northern Soul man. You’ll no doubt deliver the glad tidings yourself.”

“Better the Devil you know.”


	22. Chapter 22

The trio left the Jemson residence, careful to avoid the avian bodies that littered their path, and went to their vehicles to grab supplies. As Marcus handed him his messenger bag from the trunk, Tomas pointed out the futileness of the gesture considering Erlik not only knew they were coming, but could be immune to their charms. 

Marcus exhaled and sat down on the edge of the trunk, fingers loosely interlaced between his legs. “What would you suggest then, luv? Go in naked with only our wits about us?”

There was no sarcasm in his questions. He knew Tomas was scared because so was he. His brow furrowed as Tomas ran a hand through his dark curly hair.

“No,” the younger man conceded. “It just seems like an empty threat. Attacking him with weapons made of rubber instead of material that could do real harm.”

He shook his head, his eyes cast down, and took a seat next to his partner. “I’m spiraling, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.”

Tomas looked at Marcus with uncertainty.

The older man gripped the back of Tomas’ nape. “Don’t apologize for how you feel. We talked about this. We’re all scared. This is bigger than anything we’ve dealt with and, at the same time, it’s not.

“Maybe that’s where we’re making a mistake. Yes, this is a god but it’s also a demon. We know how to handle their kind, right?”

A nod, then Tomas spoke. “Send them back to Hell.”

The steel in his voice made Marcus smile, which led Tomas to the same. Marcus pressed their foreheads together, a moment of serenity prior to battle.

“I love you, Marcus.”

“I love you, too, Tomas.”

“The four of us will prevail,” Tomas added.

“Which four is that, luv?”

“You, me, Mouse and Bennett. We will get him and Halley back. I believe that as I believe in you and God.”

Marcus pulled back to get a look at Tomas. The purity and assuredness etched in his features had replaced the fear and uncertainty of only a couple moments ago. He gazed into those hazel eyes with pure adoration. No words seemed applicable to how he felt about the man sitting next to him.

It would come as no surprise Tomas’ expression mirrored his boyfriend’s. Only, he knew how to convey what he felt. He captured Marcus’ mouth; his hand sliding around the side of the other man’s face so his thumb could caress his stubbly cheek.

Offering no resistance, Marcus parted his lips to accept his lover’s tongue. He was always rubbish with words unless they were divine interpretation or he was reading God’s word. This … this was infinitely better. No way to misinterpret intent or meaning.

They stayed this way until oxygen became an issue. Their mouths were no longer connected, but they craved physical intimacy nonetheless. Burying their faces in each other’s necks, they held each other for a couple minutes.

This time when they parted, they were content to get back to preparing for what was to come. Their hearts were nourished, their souls at peace, and their minds clear.

———

At the pickup truck, which was parked nose to nose with the SUV, Mouse double-checked her own bag. It had never been unpacked and was replenished on the regular, so she had little doubt it was well equipped. Sure enough, everything seemed to be accounted for — including the kit holding the six syringes she filled with holy water earlier.

She pulled out a rosary, squeezing it while saying a prayer asking God to watch over them on their journey and as they stepped once more unto the breach.

“Heavenly Father, I am thankful for Your guidance and Your love. Today, I humbly ask You to continue doing so while looking out for myself and Your children: Marcus, Tomas, Halley Louise and Bennett. May Your grace run through us as we carry out Your work. 

“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, amen.” She crossed herself as she invoked the Holy Trinity.

Her prayer complete, Mouse wrapped the rosary around her wrist. In lieu of a jacket pocket as she wore only a tank top thanks to the heat, it was the best place for it.

Reaching into the bag once more, she pulled out her semi-automatic handgun. Mouse checked to make sure the safety was still on and then confirmed the weapon was fully loaded. There was a box of extra bullets in the bottom of the bag.

She hesitated to take the gun in with her. It could easily be used against them and make the end come a lot quicker than she, Marcus and Tomas wanted. The decision was usually a no-brainer, but there were so many unknown variables this time. Ultimately, she opted against bringing it; also leaving the box of bullets in a spare duffel bag in the trunk.

“God, please don’t let this bite me in the ass later,” she prayed.

Glancing up, Mouse could see Marcus and Tomas talking fervently through the windshield of the SUV. She watched a bit longer, wondering what they were saying when Tomas smashed his mouth against Marcus’.

“I’m never getting _that_ image out of my head.” Despite the sarcasm, the corner of her mouth quirked.

Inspired, she pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. It may not be considered sexting, but letting Lara know where she was and what she was about to do was just as intimate. This was not something she did for just anyone. Hell, half the time, she didn’t even tell Marcus and/or Tomas what she was up to when they were together.

_“Hey. We’re at Meg and Morgan Jemson’s. Their daughter, Halley Louise, was taken and we’re going to get her back. Hopefully another, as well. We’ll see. About to head into the lion’s den. Just wanted you to know.”_

Mouse debated saying something else, but nothing else would come. So, she turned her ringer off and shoved the phone back into her rear pocket. 

At that moment, she felt as if someone was watching her. She turned toward the Roosevelt house, which was obscured by a privacy hedge installed by the owners of the house directly across from her.

Zipping up her bag, she slung it crossbody over her shoulder and headed toward the guys. When she got to them, they were gearing up with their own bags. Marcus gave her a look that asked if she was ready. Mouse nodded and raised her eyebrows, her eyes sliding from him to Tomas.

He smiled, glancing at his partner and then back at her; the nod assured her they were ready.

“Should we pray first?” Tomas asked the others; the three of them huddling together.

After leading them in a short prayer, he closed the trunk and locked the SUV. The keys shoved into the pocket of his black trousers. He had done a quick change in the back of the vehicle, the need for his clerical uniform overpowering. It may not make a difference to Erlik, but it couldn’t hurt.

The trio headed to the front door of the Roosevelt house. They never got a chance to ring the bell as the door opened as they came up the walk. Bennett stood on the threshold with a gruesome grin on his lips.

No one was fooled by the visage. Their friend would never look upon them with fiendish delight.

“Father Tomas. Marcus. So happy to finally be able to meet you. I have heard so much about you.” The grin morphed into a sneer as Mouse was addressed. “I see you brought your friend, the church mouse. How … _expected_.”

A second later, a rictus smile plastered itself on Bennett’s face. “I am Erlik. Allow me to welcome you to my home. Won’t you come in?”

  
  
  
  


The trio were led into the living room, where a tea service had been set up. Tomas and Mouse took in their surroundings as best they could from the limited view. While a tour would be appreciated, neither wanted Erlik to be their guide. They preferred what little they could see from right here.

Marcus glanced around, though it was unnecessary. He remembered everything from his visit yesterday. Nothing had changed. It was a relief, but he wanted to know about the bodies in the basement. Were they still there? Why were they there? 

Bennett also was on his mind. His gaze lingered on the figure in front of him. Was his friend still in there? Still fighting? Had Erlik destroyed him? Or merely beaten him down for now?

The vessel looked a bit worn out. Bruises and scabs were visible on the dark skin at the neck and on the hands; dark circles under the eyes; sallow flesh; and significant weight loss. This concerned Marcus for it meant they were running out of time. More importantly, _Bennett_ was running out of time. His body was breaking down.

Erlik caught Marcus’ eye. They understood each other. Whatever happened, Bennett would be caught in the middle. The god appreciated the lion’s resolve and devotion to his priestly pet. Marcus, meanwhile, relished the chance to send this bastard back to the fiery depths from whence it came.

“I thought a spot of tea would make things civilized while we get to know each other.” Erlik poured, handing a cup with saucer to each.

Mouse was served first as she sat on the far end of the beige couch. She eyed her cup warily despite the inviting aroma that rose from it.

Tomas received his cup next and had a similar reaction to hers. He knew nothing about tea. His idea of a good cup began and ended with Lipton. This limited knowledge embarrassed him even more now he was dating an Englishman who knew his chamomile from his green tea.

“Last but certainly not least.” Erlik, ever the charming host, handed Marcus his drink.

The dark blond gave him the faintest of smiles. He had watched the demon as he went about pouring, but nothing was amiss. If their tea had been tampered with the evidence lay at the bottom of their cups.

Once he served himself, the god laid out the sugar cubes and creamer on the coffee table between them. He sat in a high-back, beige armchair with a tufted diamond design.

“It’s oolong. And yes, I’m aware of the irony.” The corner of his mouth lifted at his own joke. Oolong was known for its benefits for good health. He took a sip of his tea after adding two sugar cubes to it.

The trio shared a look after watching Erlik partake of the beverage. Were they doing this? Marcus decided for them by taking a sip. It would be rude not to at least taste it after being looked after so attentively. Besides, he suspected how this bit would play out.

“Lovely,” Marcus complimented. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a proper cuppa.”

“Good!” Their host seemed genuinely pleased. “I was hoping that would be the case. With your work, I can’t imagine you get much of a chance to enjoy such a treat. I’m glad I could remedy that.”

Tomas and Mouse gingerly drank from the steaming teacups. He scorched the tip of his tongue. She did not. The hot liquid burned in a good way down her throat. It had been some time since her last decent cup of tea, too.

“I felt so bad that I missed you yesterday,” Erlik continued, eyeing its guests for a reaction. There was none. “I knew one of you stopped by, but it wasn’t until now that I knew for certain which of you it was. I suspected, of course.”

He turned his attention back to Marcus. “I am sorry I was out, but I hope you enjoyed getting a look at the old place.” 

Looking around, he added, “She has come quite a long way since I acquired her way back when. I miss the way she was, but….”

A shrug of the shoulders as he took another sip. His eyes shifted to the tea service where a plate of Madeleines lay. “Damn. Where are my manners?”

Putting down its cup and saucer on the table, it stood and picked up the plate. Presenting to Marcus first, it asked, “Would you like one? They are vanilla bean. I picked them up at a local bakery this morning.”

“Was this before or after you took Halley Louise Jemson?” Marcus selected one and nodded in gratitude.

“Oh, before. It wouldn’t have worked the other way round.” Erlik offered one to Tomas and Mouse. He passed; she didn’t.

“Where is she?” Tomas queried.

“Safe. For now.” The god dipped one of the cookies into its tea, following Marcus’ lead. He bit into it and let slip a soft moan. “Excellent idea. I was just going to eat it as is.”

“What a waste,” Marcus quipped after swallowing his own bite. “How’s Bennett?”

“Annoying. He’s been hiding ever since I reprimanded him for saving that one.” He gestured with his chin toward Mouse. “Well, more or less. We had a talk last night. He’s accepted his fate, I believe.”

This pointed statement did not go amiss between Marcus and Tomas. Both understood this was aimed at them. The god really was as subtle as a sledgehammer.

“What did you talk about?” Tomas reached for a Madeleine. The gesture brought a smile to their host’s lips.

“The two of you. We disagree over how you will respond to my proposal. Let’s say I’m more … _optimistic_ than him.”

“What proposal?” Mouse had finished her cookie and drank half her cup of tea.

It eyed her for a moment, then drained its cup and placed it on the saucer that sat on the coffee table. It had finished its own cookie. “This is really for the grownups, but what the hell.”

Turning his attention to the men, Erlik folded Bennett’s hands on his lap. “I have a business proposal for the two of you. Now, I know you are aware the Church has been taken over. This is great for my kind, less so for yours. Full disclosure: They want it all. Your species will either be killed, tortured or turned into slaves. Pets, if you’re really lucky.”

Its glance momentarily shifted to Mouse, who scowled in return. Focusing once more on Marcus and Tomas, it continued. “I honestly didn’t see anything wrong with the big plan for the longest time. Only recently did it come to my attention that it doesn’t leave me in the best position.”

“What’s a god of death to do when all the people are gone?” Marcus replied drolly.

“Exactly. It’s frowned upon to kill one of our own. If they kill each other, fine. It’s annoyingly precise. One of the few things we higher ups can’t get away with. That said, I can save humanity if you join me. It’s really a win-win. You and your kind stay alive, and I get the Old Gray Lion and his cub, the prophet.

“Granted, your visions are small scale, Tomas. But, with the proper tutelage, they can become so much more. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve received this offer. So take me at my word when I tell you, you have a gift.”

Tomas ignored the implications of what Erlik just said to jump back to something else it had mentioned. “When you say you can save humanity, you mean enslaving them so their spirit will be diminished. Demons will be their dictators, pressing their thumbs onto their backs. People won’t fight back because there will be no hope.”

The god’s face lit up. “Exactly! Isn’t that what pets are for? Those who believe in God will curse His name for having forsaken them and those who don’t will just believe this is the way it was meant to be. It’s perfect!”

“For you,” Marcus countered. “I haven’t heard reason one why we should consider your offer.”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill Bennett and Mouse in this house and make you watch every agonizing second.”

The three of them said nothing, staring at Erlik.

“What’s in it for us if we say yes?” Marcus asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tomas look at him. 

He wanted to know where the older man was going with this line of inquiry, but held his tongue.

Beyond Tomas, he saw Mouse blink and shake her head. Shit. He had been right in guessing it was her tea that had been doused. Marcus squeezed Tomas’ knee, subtly pointing toward Mouse.

“Aside from being the face of our demoralizing humanity campaign? What do you want? A nice house for the two of you? Done. Bodyguards to protect you from those who will want you dead? Absolutely.”

Neither Marcus nor Tomas was listening to him. Mouse had said something, but they didn’t catch it. They watched as she stood, joining her as they set their cups and saucers on the coffee table.

“Mouse?” Tomas put a hand on her shoulder, but she swatted him away.

“You sonofabitch.” Her words slurred and her body swayed; her equilibrium shot. “What the hell did you put in this tea?”

“GHB is what the kids call it. Quite effective and easy to come by as it turns out. You’re not wanted, Mouse. Not by us or anyone. It’s time to get you out of the way once and for all.”

As Tomas listened, anger pooled in his stomach. He hated this creature spewing disrespect and lies at his friend. Mouse didn’t deserve such treatment, he thought as he scratched his arm absentmindedly.

“Marcus knew I had spiked your tea, but did nothing about it,” the demon continued. “Tomas is too besotted with his Daddy fixation to give a damn what happens to you. Bennett blames you for what happened to him. So, let’s just end this charade once and for all, yes?”

“Fuck you,” Mouse spat. Her faculties were failing her. It was a matter of seconds, maybe a minute or two, before she passed out. The harder she fought, the more powerful the drug became. “We … knew … it was one of us. Of course … it was … me.”

She fell to her knees, glaring up at her tormentor as he came over to her. “You won’t win.”

Crouching, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This time, I will.”

Her vision swam and before she knew it, the hardwood floor came up to meet her. The last thing she heard aside from her friends shouting her name was their screams.

  
  
  
  


Tomas couldn’t stop scratching his arm. Every time he stopped, the spot would itch again — the agitation more intense. He and Marcus rose when Mouse got to her feet. It was just like her to refuse assistance when he put his hand on her shoulder to balance her. Ignoring his arm for those few seconds was agony, but she was more important.

While he was keeping an eye on Mouse, he noticed Marcus had started twitching. It was subtle to anyone who was not Tomas. He caught Marcus’ eye; his partner gave him the tiniest shake of his head. Translation: _I’m fine. Focus on Mouse._

He doubted Marcus was fine. At this point, Tomas wouldn’t have been surprised if Erlik was fucking with all their heads. The spot on his arm flared up again. He resumed scratching it, digging his nails in to alleviate the discomfort.

As Mouse collapsed, Tomas shouted her name; his arms flying out in a bid to catch her. There was movement under the sleeve of his black jacket. His attention pivoted. He pulled up the cloth and saw nothing. 

At first. 

A second later, something scurried beneath the skin. The scream that tore out of him was unnatural to his ears.

Oblong in shape, it was approximately a half-inch long. Unfortunately, it wasn’t alone. Another moved nearby. Fear seized him as he pulled up the other sleeve. There were two more inside his forearm.

_No no no no no no. This can’t be happening._

Ripping off his jacket and throwing it onto the couch behind him, Tomas stared at his arms in horror. The short sleeves of his black button up shirt under his rabat revealed there were several objects maneuvering just under the surface. 

Tomas was helpless to save Mouse when Erlik picked her up and slung her over its shoulder. Aware the demon was taking her away, he was too consumed by what was happening to his own body to take any measures to protect her.

His mind flashed back to his first apartment out of the seminary. It was a place he had been so proud of when he had signed the lease and moved into the building. Within a couple weeks that pride had died. A bug spotted here and there. Not a big deal.

Until he started seeing them everywhere. The place had been infested; overrun with cockroaches. Not just his apartment. The entire building was declared unfit for habitation. The landlord eventually was arrested and sued. 

For at least a month afterward, Tomas had nightmares about the roaches somehow getting inside him. The worst one began with him eating a bowl of cereal at the small table in the kitchen and ended with his head thrown back as they spilled out of his mouth. He woke up in a cold sweat that night, sticking his fingers down his throat to make sure there was nothing there until he had nearly thrown up.

Now, his nightmares were coming to life. The cold sweat covered his brow and soaked the back of his shirt. He clawed at the skin on his arms in a vain attempt to get at whatever it was that had burrowed itself within.

Tomas froze. There was movement all over his body now. He could feel them sliding around his chest, back and legs. Oh, he hoped they didn’t head north to his head.

Out. How to get them out? No way could he let these insidious things continue to remain inside him. The spoon he had used to stir his tea was too dull. Something sharp to cut was the key. But what? 

The tea service caught his eye, as did the serrated knife lying on top of it. Perfect. He lunged for it and without hesitation cut into his forearm. Blood oozed out, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was ridding himself of this infestation. His body was being attacked and he was determined his rescue mission would be a success.

What crawled out of his arm took Tomas by surprise. It was a box elder bug. Black with red markings, its wings lay flat on its back. Taking stock of its new surroundings now it was no longer trapped, it took a few steps before taking flight.

Following the one’s lead, others soon emerged from where the chunk of flesh had been removed. Tomas did the same to his other arm, blood oozing down to the leather cord holding the St. Benedict’s medal to his right wrist. As he watched, more of the insects were released, seeking freedom. The beauty of the box elder bugs hovering in the air above him briefly took away the horror he had felt only moments before.

Then, he felt it.

Not the blood seeping from the self-inflicted wounds on his arms. His fear was becoming reality. He felt one crawling under his skin from his pectoral muscle to his throat. It stopped just above his collarbone, near his windpipe. 

Tomas closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. This was a test and he was about to fail. Of all the demons he had faced in his short time as an exorcist, it was an old fear that would be his undoing. What other choice did he have? He could think of nothing else except extricating these insects from his body.

Not even the thought of Marcus could distract him from his obsession.

_Marcus._

Vaguely Tomas wondered where his love had gone. Perhaps he went after Mouse. Someone should.

His heart pounded as ever so slowly, he raised the serrated knife to his throat. 

_What is that?_ A sound, indecipherable, reached his ears. It grew louder, but he couldn’t make it out. 

Now there was pressure on his wrist. A weight had been added. It attempted to pull the knife away from his throat.

_No! I must get it out. It’s the only way._

That mystery sound was all around him now. It was getting clearer, but Tomas still had trouble making it out. The next second, it was at his ear and clear as a bell.

“Don’t you fucking let this bastard win, Tomas.”

  
  
  
  


The horror playing out before his eyes struck fear into Marcus’ soul. Mouse on the verge of passing out. Tomas seeing something on his arm that wasn’t there. When he caught Tomas repeatedly scratching his arm and felt his own body twitch, Marcus knew Erlik hadn’t only dosed Mouse but all three of them.

As she fell to the floor, he raced around the back of the couch to be at her side. He never made it. Halfway there, he was thrown against the wood hutch along the far wall. His back made a cracking sound as it hit the edge of the solid piece of furniture. The impact forced his head into the glass doors.

Marcus slumped to the floor, his head a misery and his back not much better. Looking around, his vision was blurred. He could just make out Erlik’s form, which was Bennett’s.

When the figure turned its head, Marcus yelped. What stared back wasn’t Bennett or anything human. It was something ... _other_. An animal/human hybrid that would make Dr. Moreau proud. Blinking rapidly to clear his sight, the face he saw was gone as Erlik in Bennett’s body was crouched next to Mouse.

“Get away from her!” His voice was strained and filled with anguish as he struggled to his feet.

Pain shot through his lower back. He groaned, but it came out like a scream; his hand flying to the spot where it felt like someone had sliced through the skin. His equilibrium off, he lost his balance and crashed back into the hutch. Marcus took a minute to catch his breath.

That sensation of his skin being sliced open returned tenfold. It was another second before he realized it was happening. One by one his old scars were reopening. Tearing open his blue, short-sleeved shirt, he ignored the buttons flying everywhere. Instead, his eyes were on the pools of blood appearing beneath the fitted white tank top he wore underneath.

“What the hell?!”

The blue shirt was on the floor the next instant. Red was coming out of multiple areas on Marcus’ body. This wasn’t possible. They had all been long healed. Well, most of them. He had acquired a few newer ones since he had reunited with Tomas. Those didn’t have as much meaning as those from his past.

The same past he had come to terms with some time ago. On his shoulder, he had even tattooed over one batch of scars. He had given himself those and a fair number of others when he was much younger, and much more prone to cutting himself to ease his burden.

All of them were coming back to life. The physical healing undone.

_Let ’em bleed. It changes nothing._

He noticed the one on the underside of his forearm — the one given to him in Chicago by Brother Simon when he was tied to a chair next to an equally beaten Bennett — was once again oozing the dark red substance that helped keep him alive.

Bennett had fought back then with Marcus’ assistance. Now, the tables were turned. His friend’s strength and fortitude — despite wanting nothing more in his weakened state than to be with his beloved sister, whom they continually dangled in front of him like a carrot — fueled Marcus.

His feet slipped in the blood. He crash landed onto the hardwood floor. It boggled his mind that so much of his essence had seeped out of him. Surely, it wasn’t possible. Dazed, he looked at his arms, and the now red-and-white tank top. 

He reconsidered when he thought about how many scars he had. It would be a miracle if he wasn’t dead in a matter of minutes. 

Voices from the past formed a din that had him covering his ears. The soundtrack of his life roaring past. One, however, was louder than the rest.

“Bennett.”

That lifeline took him out of his stupor. Marcus stood up; woozy but determined. Erlik was nowhere to be seen and Mouse’s body was gone. He would find her, but first he had to save someone else.

Tomas had removed his jacket and his arms were bleeding. To Marcus’ horror, he figured out his partner had done it to himself. For what reason, he couldn’t fathom. Then, he saw Tomas had a serrated knife to his throat.

“ _No! Tomas! Don’t!”_

Marcus staggered over to him and tried to pull the knife away. He cursed Erlik as Tomas fought him. “Don’t do this, luv. We both know this isn’t you. You need to fight, Tomas. Not me, but Erlik. It’s doing this to you … screwing with your head. It’s done it to me, too. But look. Look at me, Tomas. I’m here. I’m right here and begging you, baby. Fight this. _Fight him._ Come back to me. Come back to us.”

He didn’t attempt to blink away the tears. They only showed how much he loved this beautiful man, who had saved him more than once. Even when Marcus wasn’t sure he deserved it. 

Tomas deserved to be saved. Marcus knew this as sure as he drew breath. The blood loss was starting to affect him so he made his final effort count. With his grip still on his partner’s wrist, he grabbed Tomas’ nape and spoke with firm determination in his ear.

“ _Don’t you fucking let this bastard win, Tomas._ ”

Maybe Tomas heard him. Marcus hoped he did because his strength was fading. Falling onto the floor, his back against the tea service, he thought for sure this was all just Erlik messing with him. Then again, what did he know? If this was the end, then let it be he brought Tomas back as his final gesture.

A familiar face floated in front of him. “Tomas?”

“Don’t you dare leave me again, you sonofabitch.”

He never had a chance to reply. That perfect mouth was on his before Marcus could react. When he did, he put his hands on Tomas’ sides. The firm, solid form of the man he loved, coupled with that kiss, cleared the fog from his brain.

“You scared the bloody piss out of me,” Marcus told him when they parted.

“Guess we’re even then,” Tomas retorted. “Can you stand? We need to find Mouse.”

Marcus rose with his partner’s assistance. They both turned when they heard a slow clap coming from across the room.

Erlik had returned and it was not amused.


	23. Chapter 23

“That wasn’t nearly as much fun as I had hoped,” Erlik admitted. “For a second, I thought maybe I had Tomas with that knife. I underestimated you both. My mistake.”

“Where is Mouse?” Tomas demanded. 

He was shaking; being so close to death by his own hand had left him unmoored. The blood-drenched man beside him wasn’t helping his emotional state. In just a few seconds, he had made sure multiple times God knew how grateful he was both his and Marcus’ lives had been spared.

“She’s around here somewhere,” the demon sighed. “It’s nicer now it’s just the three of us.”

Bennett’s eyes took in all of Marcus. “I’d offer you a change of clothes, but I rather like this look.”

His glance slid to Tomas. “So pretty. Yet that wretched collar does nothing for me.”

The younger man felt the white plastic around his neck press against his throat. He tried to undo it, but his fingers couldn’t get a grip on it to do so. It continued to restrict his airway; the more he tried to find some relief, the less he found it. His knees gave way and he collapsed onto the couch.

“Tomas?” Marcus saw his partner was being choked by his collar. Kneeling by his side on the cushion, he found he also had trouble trying to unfasten the plastic from the shirt. His sticky, blood-stained fingers made it more difficult. “Let him go!”

Erlik didn’t move. It observed the scene passively as Tomas’ face turned a blotchy puce and his eyes rolled up into his head a few seconds later.

_“What do you want?!”_ Marcus shouted.

An exhale rolled out from the god of death like a fog across the moors. “What _do_ I want? I still want you and Tomas by my side. We would be quite the team. I believe that wholeheartedly. I know my pitch left a lot to be desired. Apologies, but recruitment was never my forte. Seduction, on the other hand….

“Then again, perhaps I should just do my job and kill you slowly, painfully. Drive you insane and pick at your scraps until there is nothing but bones. Watch those bones disintegrate to dust. A gust of wind scattering the ashes across the bleak landscape. The retirement package I would get once your lot is done and dusted would be beyond what you could imagine.”

Tomas fell over onto the cushion, his head landing just shy of the couch's arm. His eyes were closed. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

Grabbing his wrist to check for a pulse, Marcus found none. “Oh dear God.”

This time, he managed to remove the clerical collar from around Tomas’ neck. There was nothing when he pressed his fore- and middle fingers on his boyfriend’s jugular vein.

The next instant he rounded on Erlik; mouth open to curse him back to Hell. He froze when the demon held up a finger.

At the same time, Tomas’ eyes flew open and he took a huge intake of breath. He started coughing almost immediately after. 

Marcus pulled him up, taking his face in his hands. “Tomas? Are you with me, luv?”

Groggily, he nodded. “As far it goes.”

Pressing their foreheads together, Marcus puffed out a chuckle. “Thank God for that.”

“I think you meant to thank _me_.” Erlik waited a beat. “You’re welcome.”

“He nearly died because of you!”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I brought him back,” the demon said darkly. “Just like it’s a good thing your wounds healed so quickly.”

“He’s not going to let me in,” Tomas whispered.

“No, I’m not,” Erlik replied matter-of-factly. “As much I would love to see firsthand how your power works, Tomas, there is no fucking way I’m letting you in my head.”

“’Fraid you’ll lose?” Marcus egged. “Two exorcists for the price of one? Three with me. And if I know Mouse, that number goes up to four. 

“Two out here and two in there.” He pointed at Bennett’s head. “Can’t say I blame you. I don’t like your odds.”

The demon narrowed its eyes. “Good thing the game is rigged, then. Can’t have that headstrong bitch showing up to ruin my fun. Not when we’re just getting started.”

“What did you do to her?” Tomas asked, his strength gradually returning.

“Let’s just say I hope her people skills are up to snuff.” 

Its sneer made the hair on the back of both men’s necks stand on end.

Erlik glanced at the tea service to its left. There were still a couple Madeleines on a plate. The serrated knife, which only moments ago had been inches away from severing Tomas’ jugular was forgotten on the coffee table.

“Shall I go put on a fresh pot then?” He didn’t wait for a response; leaving the room almost as soon as the offer was made.

Marcus stood, feeling Tomas’ fingers on his arm. They traced each scar from his wrist up to his shoulder as his other hand held the older man’s wrist. “All healed,” he told his lover gently. “It looks worse because of all the blood.”

He winced, knowing that wasn’t going to help. Tomas hated how Marcus had self-inflicted some of his own wounds. Marcus hated how it broke Tomas’ heart when he told him the story — well, stories. Each scar had their own and he revealed them one night after they had made love in a hotel room in Connecticut.

Standing, Tomas kissed the one on Marcus’ shoulder, knowing that one his boyfriend had tried to transform it into something less sad and ugly. Marcus would never be that to him.

A shift in the energy of the room was palpable. It was almost kinetic. Both felt it. Marcus saw it first. Trickling down from the top of the wainscoting throughout the living room, several rivulets of scarlet appeared. The liquid pooled when it hit the floor, spreading out gradually.

Following his partner’s eyeline, Tomas noticed it, as well. It was hard to miss. Then, his eyes lifted and he saw the walls bowing. He pointed it out to Marcus, who swallowed at the sight.

“We need to find Mouse and exorcise Erlik now,” the dark blond instructed. “Otherwise, we’re all damned.”

The serrated knife on the coffee table vibrated for an instant before lodging itself into Marcus right shoulder. He screamed, falling back onto the couch. This time, the wound wasn’t a trick of his mind. 

All of it — the pain, the blood, the tear in his flesh — was real.

  
  
  
  


The god of death had waited until Tomas and Marcus were preoccupied with their own neuroses before approaching the unconscious body on the floor of the living room. He bent down and lifted Mouse, throwing her over his shoulder. 

It made him smile to watch these strong, powerful men be reduced to paranoid wretches in a matter of minutes. Would it take long for Tomas to find the serrated knife? How soon before Marcus gave up and let himself “bleed out?” 

He felt both pride and sorrow at the thought of watching the Old Gray Lion die. While Tomas’ gift was fascinating and quite useful, it was Marcus who had fascinated the demon.

The man had heard God’s voice not once but twice. He had been brought back to life by his Father, a worthy son in a sea of inferior ones. That was special. That was rare. Anyone could have visions. The mental hospitals were filled with them.

Marcus Keane was chosen with a capital “C.” He also was a survivor. Erlik had great respect for those who fought tooth and nail to make their way on this earth. If he was being honest, it was Marcus’ fondness for Bennett that had prevented the demon from eradicating the little beast.

Sadness purveyed him as he thought about what could have been with Marcus. If he had to keep Tomas around, it was a condition he could accept. Rumor had it the dark-haired man (he refused to call him a priest; Bennett was the real priest in his eyes, though neither had been excommunicated yet) could be molded.

Erlik doubted that now he had met Tomas. The only way that could possibly be true was to separate him and Marcus. Obviously, that had turned out so well. It was aware of their time apart and the catalyst for their subsequent reunion. No. Tomas Ortega was a loyal soldier of God and devoted cub.

The weight of Mouse on his shoulder was beginning to make its presence known. With regret, the god left the men to their own devices. It walked to the door next to the kitchen, took down the key kept above the door frame and unlocked it. The door swung out to reveal a long staircase that disappeared into the darkness.

“Enough of you.”

It hoisted Mouse off its shoulder with both hands and threw her down the steps like a bag of day-old garbage. Flicking on the light, it watched with satisfaction as she tumbled down, down, down. Her head hit the cement floor with a satisfying thwack. When she didn’t move, it hoped she was dead.

If she wasn’t now, she would be soon.

  
  
  
  


Mouse woke up to a headache and blurred vision. She had no idea where she was or how long she had been out. The ground beneath her was cool and hard. Moving her legs resulted in her foot hitting something narrow yet raised. Feeling around with her foot, she worked out it was a step.

The basement. Somehow, she had been taken from the living room to here. 

She kept her eyes closed and her body still for a few minutes. Her head hurt like her skull had been bashed in with a brick. Slowly, she moved it to the side and checked with cautious fingers for any physical damage.

There was no wetness, but there was tenderness. That would do for now. If she survived this, she was willing to suck up her intense hatred for hospitals and get a thorough examination.

After what seemed like an hour, Mouse slowly rolled onto her knees. She stayed on all fours for a minute so her equilibrium would balance out. Then, she pushed herself onto the stairs, sitting on the fourth step from the bottom.

Thanks to the limited amount of sunshine coming through the few small, curtained windows opposite, there was enough light to get an idea of her surroundings. 

That’s when the stench hit her. It had been there all along, but Mouse was alert now. All her senses seemed to be functioning, which proved to be a blessing and a curse at this moment.

Marcus’ description of the horrors of the Roosevelt house basement had been accurate while underselling it at the same time. Never had she witnessed such an atrocity. She had no idea how many naked corpses lay rotting or why they were naked in the first place. They had been here for some time. Of that, she had no doubt.

She crossed herself and prayed for Erlik’s victims; that their deaths had been quick and their souls would find peace. Of the latter, she had her doubts. This angered her. None of these people deserved to be treated like lambs to the slaughter.

Halley Louise.

The thought of lambs made her remember the girl being taken had been the final push to bring her, Marcus and Tomas to this wretched house. Mouse peered into the half-light in the hope of seeing her young friend.

“Halley!” she called out _sotto voce_ , not wanting to attract their captor.

There was no response. She knew she was going to have to wade into the morass of bodies if she wanted an answer as to whether the girl was down here. Carefully, Mouse stood. No dizziness, but her head ached something fierce. She stepped onto the floor and gingerly made her way through the corpses.

“Halley Louise!” Again in that same stage whisper. Still, no reply came. 

From somewhere, a faint cold breeze floated past. The hairs on Mouse’s arms and nape rose. She wished she had a weapon and cursed herself for drinking that damn tea. Yes, she knew the odds weren’t in her favor. Yes, it would have been too suspicious had she ignored it after it had been poured.

No, this was the way it had to be. There had to be a reason why she was in this room, away from her friends. God had a plan. Of that, Mouse had no doubt. And with Halley Louise missing, Mouse had a mission.

A shuffling noise snapped her attention back to the bodies at her feet. The sea of dead covered the basement floor next to the stairs, all the way back to the far wall at the front of the house. It almost seemed like a small wave had rolled throughout. 

Mouse stopped. She stared at the floor, but it was as still as her. A minute passed without incident. 

“Mouse!”

On the stairs, a few feet away stood Halley Louise Jemson. Her face contorted in fear, matching the tone of her voice. 

The distraction was not in Mouse’s favor. Hands reached out and latched onto her legs and hands, pulling her down to the floor. Entreating her to join them for all eternity. Halley Louise screaming her name scored the terrifying scene.

Mouse fought as though she were a cornered animal desperate not to be caught. However, the corpse-covered floor was like quicksand: the more she fought the quicker she sank.

Her eyes landed on a familiar face as she was pulled under. This body was fresh. It couldn’t have been here more than a couple hours. Green pupils stared back devoid of life. A lock of short red hair hung over the woman’s face, partially obscuring it.

_Lara._

It was the last thought Mouse had before she was pulled beneath the bodies. A young girl’s scream puncturing the air was the last sound she heard.

  
  
  
  


Mouse woke up with a start. 

That was a mistake. Her skull throbbed as though someone was treating it like a bongo after taking a sledgehammer to it. A figure loomed over her. It was out of focus. Her nightmare fresh in her memory, she swung at whatever was there. Hands grabbed her wrists, trying to subdue her.

“Mouse! Stop!”

There was something familiar about the voice that instinctively made her submit. She stared up at what she guessed was a face. A few seconds later, the figure came into focus. Twelve years old. Long blond hair hung loose, except the sections braided and pulled back at the temples.

“You copying my style?” Mouse asked somewhat groggily. “It’s kind of creepy.”

Halley Louise smiled, letting go of her friend as she took a seat on a nearby step. She shrugged. “Just thought I’d try it out. Not sure it’s me.”

With a bit of effort, Mouse pushed herself up into a sitting position. The stairs were still in front of her, just like in her dream. Her head snapped to the right. There they lay, just as Marcus had said. He hadn’t lied about the stench either. 

She closed her eyes. The extreme sense of déjà vu was doing a number on her head. Another part of her dream — that was putting it nicely — had her opening her eyes again a second later. Nothing moved. The dead were staying dead, which was the first piece of good news she had received today.

“Of course, it’s not you,” Mouse replied, returning her gaze to the girl. “It’s me. When we get out of here, you should do something radical with it. Dye it pink or cut it all off. Maybe both?”

The smile on Halley Louise’s lips diminished. There was a sadness in her eyes, but no fear. “Do you think we will get out of here?”

“Giving up on us already?”

“Tomas and Marcus are here, too?” 

Mouse grinned at the spark of hope inflected in her question. “Right upstairs.”

“I heard screaming. Then, I thought I heard Tomas’ name, but I wasn’t sure.”

It took more strength than she would have liked, but Mouse joined Halley Louise on the step. “What else did you hear?”

“Not sure. It was muffled. More screaming.” The girl turned and looked up at the door at the top of the stairs. “I tried a few times, but he keeps it locked.”

“That’s okay. We’ll figure a way out.” 

Hearing Halley Louise's description of what came from the living room filled Mouse with dread. She had a feeling her boys were alive. It was the shape they were in that concerned her.

“Did he touch you? Hurt you in any way?” 

Erlik’s laissez-faire attitude to humans’ pain and suffering, coupled with the girl’s age, made Mouse fear it had taken advantage of the situation. She exhaled when Halley Louise shook her head.

“But he will.”

Anger rivaled the dread as the dominant emotion raging inside Mouse. “What did he say? Did the words ‘vocare pulvere’ come up?”

Again, Halley Louise shook her head. “I’ve never heard those words before. He just said I was a rare treat and that he couldn’t wait to taste me.”

Mouse needed a weapon and a way out. Her messenger bag was still in the living room by the couch where she had left it. She would have to improvise. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“He stared at my neck when he said it,” the girl added.

_Okay. So it’s not sexual. Neck fetish? No. He’s not bloody Dracula either._ _So what else would he want with a twelve-year-old girl?_

A thought struck her. Something she remembered from her studies in what felt like another lifetime. There was an ancient belief that the blood of the innocent held special properties. God only knows how old Erlik was. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that it, too, believed the legend. 

And if that innocent also had been selected by God to be His messenger for even a short period, then allegedly their blood would be extra special. Like a rare vintage wine ready to be uncorked and consumed.

Halley Louise put a hand to her throat. “I don’t want to die like that. I’m not sure I see myself living till I’m old, but I won’t die like that.”

The woman put a hand on her shoulder. “I promise to do everything I can to make sure you won’t go out that way. Just because you can’t see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean it can’t happen. It just means you’re not ready for it.”

“I _am_ only twelve,” her friend admitted. “I’m not sure I see past high school yet.”

“You will because I will get you out of here and back to your parents. I’m glad you told them about us. We may not have gotten here so soon otherwise.”

The girl lifted her other shoulder. “Once Mom met you and Tomas, it seemed stupid not to tell her. Besides, I hate lying to them. The whole God’s spy thing totally messed with my head.”

A snort and grin were Mouse’s response. “Welcome to our world.”

She cocked her head and put her hand to the back of it. “What I wouldn’t kill for a really good painkiller.”

“There’s a medicine cabinet over there.” Halley Louise pointed across the sea of dead to a makeshift surgery on the far side of the basement. “I’ll see what’s inside.”

Mouse grabbed her wrist as the girl got up. “You’ve been through them?”

Halley Louise nodded. “I had some time before you showed up. It’s fine. Creepy, but fine. Be right back.”

Anxiously, Mouse watched the girl maneuver through the bodies and across the room. When she got to the small cabinet, Halley Louise started reading the labels aloud. Mouse stopped her when she said naproxen. 

As her friend made her way back, Mouse prayed the pills weren’t expired. Or if they were, that they wouldn’t do any significant damage. She managed to catch the bottle the girl tossed to her when close enough.

Popping three pills, she swallowed them with no issues despite the lack of water. Mouse had become a pro at taking pills dry. It was practically a required skill in her line of work.

The draft she had felt in her nightmare returned now. Mouse looked around and saw a couple vents. They were in the wrong location though. She stood without any side effects and walked over to her right. There was a door.

Naturally, it was locked. It required a skeleton key by the looks of it. She bet she could break off the knob with something in that surgical area. Looking over, she froze. 

Behind Halley Louise, who had just about cleared the sprawl of corpses, there was movement. The girl saw the look on Mouse’s face and turned around. One by one the dead became reanimated. She sped up her pace.

Mouse grabbed her to yank her out just as one undead hand landed on the girl’s leg. Halley Louise yelled for her friend to pull harder. The corpse that had her took that as an invitation. Its strength rivaled Mouse’s, then eclipsed it. The girl fell onto a few bodies that had only begun to rise.

The corpse in question got close enough to strangle Halley Louise, who managed to draw a cross with her thumb on the creature’s forehead. It screamed and let her go. Beneath her, the pile of corpses collapsed. She scrambled to her feet and into Mouse’s arms.

Slowly yet intently, the army of undead shambled toward them.

“Look for something to break the knob so we can get the hell out of here!” Mouse instructed.

Unfortunately, their side of the basement wasn’t as well equipped as their enemies’. Neither could find anything that could be used as an effective weapon. They tried the few items at their disposal, but they either broke or had no effect.

“Not sure dying in a Romero movie is better than getting my throat ripped out,” Halley Louise quipped as the horde grew closer.

She let Mouse step between her and the undead, but pulled her along as she shuffled back toward the nearest wall. This was never how she thought she would go out, but was relieved not to be alone.

“Thanks for coming for me. I wish I could tell Tomas and Marcus that.”

Mouse was about to reply when she felt Halley Louise hit the wall and saw any chance of them making it out alive fade away. She had failed. They were both going to die. Her heart tightened knowing she had broken her promise.

A shot fired outside. The outside door burst open and a couple flares were tossed inside. The noise and light discombobulated the undead.

“Let’s go! This won’t hold them for long!”

Mouse grabbed Halley Louise and shoved her through the confused masses. The women didn’t stop moving until they were in the side yard near the gate. It was then Mouse realized nobody was following them.

Carefully, she walked back to the basement door despite the protestations of her friends. Taking a beat at the top of the small set of stairs, she walked down and poked her head in the open door.

It was empty. A few steps inside and she saw the corpses littering the floor opposite the stairs that led up to the main part of the house just as they always had.

“The whole thing was a mindfuck!” Mouse growled as she approached the people waiting for her. “Asshole is probably doing the same thing to Marcus and Tomas.

“You okay?” she asked Halley Louise, who was visibly shaken by the experience.

“I’m fine. How are you? How’s your head?”

Exhaling, Mouse noticed it didn’t hurt as bad. “Better. I think the adrenaline helped. Not sure the naproxen had a chance to kick in.”

“Tell me you didn’t take drugs from that thing’s stash,” Lara lamented. She was wearing her police-issued bulletproof vest over her clothes.

“Desperate times,” Mouse told her. She stepped closer. “Thank you for saving us.”

“You’re welcome.” Lara gave her a small smile. “I take it, it's not everyday someone gets to be your hero.”

Mouse blushed. “No, it’s not.” The next moment she was back to business. “Why did you fire your gun and throw in the flares if it wasn’t real?”

“I heard a ruckus from the basement. Didn’t know who was down there, but that they needed help.” She reached round to tenderly touch the back of Mouse’s head. “It’s really tender back there. At least it’s not bleeding.”

Pushing away Lara’s hand, the exorcist stuck to what was important. “Get her home and make sure her parents get the hell out of town. I don’t want them anywhere near here.”

“My mousetrap failed, I see.” Erlik in Bennett’s body appeared behind them, coming from the back of the house. “How dare you try and take away my dessert in the process.”

Lara had the gate open and was urging Halley Louise through when she was thrown against the side of the house. She was knocked unconscious, laying on the ground in a heap.

“Should’ve worn a helmet,” Erlik quipped.

His smugness was short-lived. He screamed when a prick in the side of his neck sent an injection of holy water through his system.

“Should’ve used a bigger knife,” Marcus shot back.

Everything faded to black for the god of death as Tomas knocked him out.


	24. Chapter 24

Bennett’s unconscious body lay on the dining table, his limbs tethered to the hardwood floor by chains and other accoutrements found in the basement. The room the exorcists were in was tucked away in the back of the house on the first floor. Due to its weight, the china cabinet couldn’t be moved. Everything else was removed. Now all that remained was the table and the massive cabinet.

As he couldn’t help bringing in his friend due to his injured shoulder, Marcus escorted Halley Louise home. Her parents met them in the bird corpse-strewn front yard and embraced their only child, their relief evident. He told them to get out and not come back until after they hear from one of them. They didn’t need to be told twice.

“Will you save him?” Halley Louise had asked Marcus as they walked the short distance between houses.

“That’s the plan.” He side-eyed her. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Scared. But nothing physical.”

“You’re one up on me then.”

She giggled. Just before they got to her house, she declared, “I think you’ll bring him back.”

“From your lips….” He pointed up.

“That’s why you’ll succeed. He means a lot to you. God wouldn’t do that to you. Not after everything.” 

Marcus never got to ask her anything else as she ran to her parents right after that and was gone a few minutes later, tucked safely inside with her family. Heading back to the Roosevelt house, he mentally prepared for what was about to happen.

As he walked across the street, Lara was slowly heading in his direction. She looked a bit shaken, but otherwise okay. Marcus was happy the hit her head and back took when she landed against the side of the house hadn’t seemed to do any revocable damage.

She smiled as they passed and he returned one in kind. Marcus looked back to see Meg Jemson waiting on the front porch for Lara. It did him good to know his friends were looking out for each other.

He paused when he got to the back door of the house, hand on the knob. “She did what You wanted. She was brilliant and brave. Now, let her go. Don’t take away from her something so precious. That girl deserves to live her life as a civilian. Give this to her.”

Inside the dining room, the news wasn’t good. Marcus saw it instantly and his heart sank. Bennett’s body was deteriorating at an accelerated rate. Now Erlik was unconscious, its powers were sedated. This god had been keeping their friend alive longer than he would have been otherwise.

Placing a hand over Bennett’s heart, Marcus could feel it beating beneath his chest. He said a prayer for his friend’s survival or at least that of his soul. The presence of Tomas and Mouse gathering around gave him confidence and hope. Each took a hand, joining Marcus as he slipped into the rites of exorcism. They did not venture into this ritual unprepared. 

Tomas had donned his jacket, had a stole draped around his neck, and a crucifix in his hand. A copy of the rites was nearby on the china cabinet if he needed it. He knew the book so well he could recite whole passages from memory. Sometimes, though, it helped to have it in his hands; grounding him while the demon tried to distract him.

Mouse had her crucifix still wrapped around her wrist. She also stashed a few more syringes in her Bible. A long time ago, she had cut into an old version that she had saved from being burned in a bonfire. It was her secret hiding place. No one ever thought to inspect a Bible. Besides, it was no different than Marcus redacting his as far as she was concerned.

The older man never entered an exorcism without Mother Bernadette’s crucifix, which she gave him to inspire him and to ensure he never forgot he was forgiven; he was redeemed; he was loved. That had been her benediction for the afflicted that crossed her path and he made certain to pay that generosity forward.

He glanced at Tomas, who nodded. It proved to be easier to gain access when the demon had its guard down. Alert, they didn’t always want to play with the exorcist, even on home turf. Those who ventured forth more than likely lost. 

This wasn’t one of those times.

His eyes rolled up into his head and his nose began to bleed. The hand holding his gripped him tight. 

“Tomas!” Marcus shouted as his partner started to convulse. He tried prying their hands free, but they were locked together.

Turning back to Bennett, he saw the eyes were now open. It wasn’t Bennett looking back at him. Erlik was awake. “Let him go!”

“Your cub shouldn’t play with the big boys, el león. We like to play with our food.” The demon looked Marcus over hungrily. “You, on the other hand, are a _much_ more worthy opponent. Care to dance with death in the pale moonlight?”

“If you want me, come and get me,” the Brit spat.

A second later, Marcus’ eyes were pure white.

  
  
  
  


Tomas fell to the floor when the demon released him from his grip. His convulsions ceased as did his nose bleed. He lay unconscious for about a minute before slowly coming to, a moan alerting Mouse to his condition.

She had been unable and unwilling to stop reciting the rites of exorcism despite her friends being pulled out of the game. Marcus would have killed her if she abandoned her post in order to check on them. Not when there was so much at stake. 

Mouse pushed out any thoughts of what would happen if Erlik succeeded in getting Bennett to fully integrate. There was still no second pupil in his right eye; none that she had seen at any rate. Instantly, her mind showed her how wrong she was. That night in the barn, Bennett/Erlik looked at her, the extra pupil on full display. It also was right there during their tea, if only for a moment.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for worst case scenarios. Mouse marveled at the irony. If there was one thing she relied on, it was planning for the worst to happen.

“You with me, Tomas?” she called out, momentarily hitting pause on the repetition.

Getting her friend once more on his feet and into play was the priority. Once that was handled, they could figure out how the bloody hell they were going to bring Marcus back. This wasn’t how things normally happened. Though normal flew out the window sometime between them finding out they were dealing with a god and the undead attacking her and Halley Louise.

It took longer than either Mouse or Tomas would have liked, but he managed to get himself upright. He felt exhausted. What just happened? Sorting through his memories, as he worked on getting on his feet, the last thing he remembered was Bennett’s hand gripping his fiercely. 

Resting one hand on the china cabinet after he was up, he raised the other to his nose. It was sticky just under his nostrils. His fingertip came back red. Licking the tip of his forefinger, he wiped the area again. Tomas cleaned the rest of it as best he could with his sleeve.

Something felt off. He hadn’t noticed it at first. Now the world had settled around him and his head had cleared, it was hard to miss. Marcus stood before him with his back to him. His partner was in the same position as earlier yet something was different. As he approached, he caught Mouse’s eye.

The fear and apprehension he saw there was all the confirmation he needed. Marcus wasn’t speaking. Tomas cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. He raced to his partner’s other side and turned his face toward him.

“No!” Seeing the white eyes instead of the gorgeous baby blues chilled Tomas’ blood. “How is this possible? What did he do?”

Both questions were posited as he gazed upon Marcus, but Mouse decided to answer as best she could.

“This isn’t your typical demon. It’s more powerful than anything we’ve ever faced. It doesn’t surprise me it would be able to hack into anyone’s mind who was willing.”

“Goddamn it, Marcus. You’re not supposed to be doing this shit! I just got you back. How am I supposed to save you now?”

Racking his brain for a solution, one occurred to him almost instantly. _Could it really be that simple?_ He could hear Mouse delivering the ritual, leaving him to figure a way out of this mess.

Marcus was always open to him. Even when they fought like feral cats, his boyfriend made an effort to be receptive. Tomas thought back to when he was in the mindscape with the demon whose name he had never learned a few weeks ago. That growly baritone had reached him even there. There was no reason to think the same couldn’t be true in reverse. He could feel Mouse’s intense gaze on him as she kept up the recitation. 

“What are you up to, cub?” Erlik asked with a bemused expression on its face — Bennett’s face. 

When Tomas didn’t answer, his humor faded as he focused on Mouse. “That Hallmark sentiment isn’t going to work on me, you smug little cunt. Couldn’t even stop me from taking your old flame from you. Poor little church mouse. That’s two gone on your watch.”

His eyes skated back to Tomas. “Shall we make it three?”

Mouse continued as she had done for the past few minutes. Silently, she begged Tomas to do whatever it was he was going to do. Their time was up.

“Querido, I know you can hear me,” Tomas whispered in Marcus’ ear. “Don’t stop fighting, but I need you to do me a favor. I need you to let me in. Can you do that, baby? Let’s fight him together.”

Tomas never took his hands from Marcus’ face. He listened to Erlik taunting Mouse with Bennett’s tongue. He prayed to God this would work. Then, he took one hand and slid it around to the small of his partner’s back.

“I’m here, Marcus. Let me in.”

A second later, Tomas’ eyes went white.

“This should be fun,” Erlik snarled. To Mouse, he added, “And then there was one.”

  
  
  
  


Marcus didn’t know where he was at first. This was all new to him despite being the second time in the past couple days he had been pulled into a different space by someone else. He was inside his own head; that much he knew. His experience watching Tomas go through this really wasn’t the same as being in the thick of it. He owed his partner a huge apology.

The toll it took on Tomas each time he allowed a demon to tether their brains weighed heavily on Marcus. That boy was so much stronger than he gave him credit for at times. He hoped he wouldn’t be out of commission for too long should he survive. Marcus wasn’t sure he would make it out of this battle alive and he wasn’t holding his breath for God to take mercy on him a second time.

As he took in his surroundings, Marcus realized where he was. It had been so long since he had been here yet he would never forget the place where he first met Bennett: The Basilica of Our Lady of Africa in Algiers. _My God, it feels like a lifetime ago. Has it really only been seven years?_

Just as soon as he made the connection, the church was gone. It was almost as if his subconscious had declared such a cherished memory off limits to the likes of Erlik, god of death. _As it should be. That’s not for him. I would never forgive myself if that thing tainted it. Neither would Bennett. Now to get him back._

This new location had no religious affiliation nor a personal connection. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Marcus recognized it immediately. It was the tiny room on the second floor of the very house they were in; the room where he found Bennett’s Bible tucked behind the baseboard.

_Dammit. He knows._

“I do indeed.” Erlik announced from behind Marcus. “I knew that cunning little shit had to be up to something, but he was tricky. I underestimated him. Still don’t know where he is now. He’s not here, which is where I thought he would be. His oasis in this desert.”

“Bloody cesspool, more like,” Marcus growled, turning to face his nemesis. “Bennett wasn’t the willing sacrifice you lot thought he’d be, so now you’re cleaning up your mess. Someone wrote checks his arse can’t cash.”

In an instant, Erlik was in Marcus’ face with its fingers wrapped around the man’s throat. “Watch your tongue, boy. I may admire you, but it only goes so far. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to make you watch as I rip your soul from your body and devour it.”

“Won’t be nearly as satisfying as you think.” 

Despite his snarky demeanor, the exorcist was on his guard. Erlik was capable of practically anything. The antics that transpired in the living room and, from what Mouse described after he had returned from walking Halley Louise home, in the basement. The demon could get inside their head with ease.

It wasn’t as if he could reanimate the dead and make a house bleed. 

Right?

“So, go on then. Show me the power of a god.”

A lascivious grin teased itself across Erlik’s lips. He understood what Tomas saw in his mighty lion and, for the first time, wondered how this man would be in bed. The demon god allowed himself a moment of indulgent fantasy in which a naked, writhing, simpering Marcus Keane begged it for its mighty cock.

Erlik licked his lips and took a step back. That, alas, could never happen. Marcus was correct in that the demon had to clean up its mess. It released its grip on the man’s throat, letting its hand run down his chest. Back to business.

“Did Bennett tell you about the punishment he received when I caught him upon his return from saving the sow?” 

“He didn’t have to, I saw the damage for myself,” Marcus said. “You’re killing him.”

“Slowly but surely.” Erlik crossed its arms over its chest. The move was unnerving in Bennett’s form. “Still can’t work out how he did it. How did he save the church mouse? How did he contact you? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I doubt you ever will again. Bennett’s full of surprises.” 

Marcus let out a groan. It felt like his abdomen had been sliced open. He looked down at his white tank top and saw blood seeping through. When he lifted the shirt, another slice appeared. Welts grew on his arms and neck, some scabbing over. A scream tore out of his throat as a layer or two of skin was flayed from his wrists.

“Bennett was unconscious for a good part of his punishment. He valiantly stayed awake for the bit where I used a twelve blade on his belly.” Erlik pointed at Marcus’ stomach. “Granted, he already had a concussion from when I knocked him out prior. May have stacked the deck against him a bit.”

At this point, Marcus was on his knees. He wanted to coddle his wrists, but he couldn’t without causing himself more pain. There was a tickle in his ear. Ignoring it wasn’t working. Was someone speaking? Focusing on the voice, he closed his eyes and tuned out the demon’s pontificating about what else would be done to Marcus’ body.

_Tomas. He’s okay. Thank God._

He listened as Tomas encouraged him to keep fighting. His partner wanted them to fight together. Tomas wanted Marcus to let him in.

Not a chance. Marcus didn’t want Tomas to suffer as he was right now. More slices to his skin, now on his back. His eyes were open once again. Every time he stood, Erlik forced him back down. He never stayed down. That wasn’t who he was. In all his years, Marcus had never submitted to an enemy; never walked away from a fight.

This was not going to change now.

Tomas’ soothing voice washed over him, urging him again to let him in. Weren’t they partners? In all aspects of their lives, they were a team; willing to take it as far as it goes. The decision had been made when Marcus felt a warm, gentle pressing against the small of his back.

This spot of contemplation had allowed Erlik to grip Marcus’ head in a way that would end in death. He yanked it so the man could see him. “Allow me to introduce myself. A relationship such as ours demands respect. You have mine, Marcus. This is me proving it.”

Marcus’ eyes grew large. Gone was Bennett’s visage. In its place was that of a creature with the face and teeth of a pig. Just as he had witnessed earlier in the living room. The photos he had seen online of Erlik’s true form were nothing compared to the creature in the flesh. He couldn’t have been less prepared for such horror.

Erlik squealed; a horrible, high-pitched shriek that pierced Marcus’ eardrum. The noise filled the room. The man thought his head might explode the longer the sound continued. He could feel a warm liquid oozing from his ears. Blood.

The squeal came to a sudden and much welcome end when the door to the room burst open, slamming into the wall next to it.

“Get the hell away from him!” Tomas bellowed.


	25. Chapter 25

Tomas took in the scene before him. His heart shattered as he saw a physically broken Marcus on his knees. Broken but defiant. He was so beautiful like this that Tomas’ heart mended instantly; fused by love, and fueled by his determination to end Erlik’s reign of terror once and for all. 

Marcus caught his partner’s eye. The look he gave him warned him to tread lightly. Tomas confirmed receipt of the message with the faintest of nods. He silently asked the other man if he was okay by slightly raising an eyebrow. The corner of the dark blond’s mouth quirked; his eyes blinked once. A small ounce of relief washed over the younger man.

“Welcome to our tea party, Tomas. A bit rude of you to just blunder in here without an invitation. Then again, it didn’t stop Alice, did it? So much mess and all for a little white rabbit.”

Erlik cast a sidelong glance at Marcus. “He’s not quite as fluffy, but I do understand the appeal.

“What’s your kink, pretty?” It turned its attention back to Tomas. “Do you like to watch? I bet you do. So feast your lovely eyes at dear Marcus while I slowly and ever so painfully end his life.”

“If that’s what you think is going to happen, you’re as big a fool as you are conceited.”

The god cocked his head. “Am I now? Why is that? Because you are God’s chosen warriors? You believe He will reach down and smite me for my actions?” It let out a chuckle that sent a shiver down the men’s spines. “Now, who is the fool, _Father_ Tomas.”

This was not going as Tomas had thought. Erlik was too much in control, too powerful to distract with a simple mind game. He should have realized that before encouraging Marcus to let him in. Wait. What was Marcus saying?

“Well, go on and do it then,” the older man growled. “You’re worse than some of the priests I’ve met over the years. All bluster and no bollocks. That includes the ones who defiled the innocent.”

He spat out blood that pooled on the wood floor at his knees.

Crouching before him, Erlik considered Marcus with compassion. “You have seen so much, lion. I forget that in my zeal to, as you so eloquently put it, clean up my mess. I have lived eons and seen the worst of humanity. To have witnessed that in such a short amount of time — what is fifty-some years in comparison? — should be soul crushing. Instead, you rise up and fight the good fight. Perhaps, I should cut you some slack.”

Marcus’ eyes never left Erlik’s. The god was back in the guise of Bennett; had been since Tomas blew into the room. Just as well. He was going to have nightmares for the rest of his life after that reveal. Best to save Tomas the same trauma.

“No.”

“No,” Erlik conceded.

Another slice across Marcus’ skin, this time vertically along his ribcage. He clenched his teeth together, groaning through the pain. His once white tank, caked with dried blood, was splotched with a fresh batch of dark red. It stuck to his wounds, making it more uncomfortable.

“Darling boy, you’re running out of canvas. I do wish I could make you whole … so I could start again.” 

It was just for a moment, but Marcus swore he saw that hellish pig face again. _A deterrent. I don’t think so._ He thought back to a passage he read about Erlik. The god saw to it to spare humanity from a religion based in knowledge of sin. Despite its best effort, shaman and priests picked up the mantle, which continues today.

_Our being here — me, Tomas, Mouse and particularly Bennett — is an affront to its own belief system._

His voice barely above a whisper, Marcus began The Lord’s Prayer. Once he was done, he started reciting the rites of exorcism. He had his palms on the floor and his head bowed. Not long after, he heard the words echoed nearby. Somehow, Tomas had worked out what he was doing and joined him.

Erlik began to twitch. It shook off the unwelcome sensations that infected him. Eyes cast on the hunched over form of the worthy adversary, scowl on its lips, it sent Marcus flying across the room with the amped thrust of a kick to the ribs. The older man crashed into the wall’s exposed brick. He lay prostrate, but the words didn’t stop.

Before Erlik could make a move on Tomas, the younger man was gone. A quick check on Marcus saw he had vanished, as well. Blood boiled in its veins. No, not blood. Something else. Something … _holy._ For the second time that day its entire system seemed to have been flooded by God’s love. The connection to Bennett’s body offline for now. The god let out an ear-splitting squeal akin to that of a raging pig. Its porcine features on full display. As its rage manifested, the sound shook the house to its foundations.

  
  
  
  


_And then there was one._

The words chilled Mouse’s blood, but not her spirit. She kept her game face in place and continued to pray for Bennett’s soul. God’s guidance to deliver her friend from evil and send this demonic deity back from whence it came also was requested. Mouse never wavered in her message. When she wasn’t praying, she was saying the rites of exorcism.

Erlik’s taunts via Bennett’s voice continued apace. He called out every insecurity, fear and regret she carried with her. Still, Mouse did not stop. However, they both knew his vitriol was slowly eating at her from the inside. Little maggots wriggling around in her brain and in her heart. Much more effective than any physical violence.

“Big bad Mouse is still a church mouse in wolf’s clothing. Who do you think you’re fooling with this painful charade? Not your friends. When they’re not eye fucking each other or screwing each other’s brains out, they worry for you. So fragile, they say. Once taken, twice shy, they fret. 

“ _NO WONDER THE BITCH COULDN’T SAVE THE PRIEST. HARD TO STAY ON MISSION WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO PROVE HOW FUCKWORTHY YOU ARE TO THE BISEXUAL EX. TOMAS AND GOD ARE THE ONLY ONES WHO WILL EVER SUCK HIS COCK.”_

Its voice changed as it spewed its version of the truth at her. Distorted into a pitch black, gravelly growl that was deeper than any human could achieve, it sounded like death was reaching out to pluck her right there and swallow her whole.

The next time the god spoke, it was again with Bennett’s voice.

“Not your lover. She’s a good woman, but she knows you’re wrong. Not just broken. That she could handle. Damaged goods, she thinks. Put back with cracks in the important spots. _Not the g-spot though._ A good fuck to warm the bed but nothing more, she reasons.”

Silently Mouse prayed for the Lord’s strength as aloud she continued fighting for Bennett. Her patience was wearing thin. This was nothing new, except for now it was threadbare. What pissed her off the most was that Erlik was aware of this.

“In the Name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God, of Blessed Michael the Archangel, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the Saints’” 

She launched into an exorcism prayer delivered by a Mother Superior in Senegal, she once assisted. 

“And powerful in the holy authority of our ministry, we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the Devil. God arises; His enemies are scattered and those who hate Him flee before Him.

“‘As smoke is driven away, so are they driven; as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish at the presence of God.”

_“I WILL MELT YOU AND YOUR LITTLE DOGS, TOO, YOU SELFISH WRETCH. I’LL MAKE SURE YOU WATCH AS I KILL EVERYONE YOU CARE ABOUT. I’D SAY ‘LOVE,’ BUT WE BOTH KNOW YOU’RE INCAPABLE OF THAT. EVEN THE LION FOUND A WAY TO CHISEL FREE HIS HEART FROM THE STONE HE ENCASED IT IN AS A MEANS OF SURVIVAL._

_“SEEING YOUR FACE WHEN I DECIMATE HIM FROM THE INSIDE OUT AND THEN THE CUB WILL BE SO, SO SWEET.”_

The cackle that erupted from Erlik was similar to a pig’s squeal. Mouse needed to silence the demon god. As casually as possible, she took the flask of holy water she stowed in the back pocket of her pants. She grabbed it from her bag in the living room after she returned to the house while the god was unconscious.

“Switching to the good stuff so soon, little church mouse?” Erlik taunted in Bennett’s voice as he watched her unscrew the lid. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff than that.”

She approached it carefully, aware that one false move would hasten her demise. With a shrug, she admitted, “That’s what happens when you think. You miss the little things.”

It looked at her questioningly, then screamed in pain as she slammed the dagger she kept tucked in her tall boot into Bennett’s hand. With its mouth open, Mouse poured the contents of the flask inside and shut it by shoving the jaw up until the teeth banged together. With one hand holding the mouth closed, she squeezed its nostrils with the other in order to force it to swallow.

Erlik thrashed on the table, fighting the urge to intake the blessed liquid with every ounce of strength it had. Its eyes stayed glued to hers, wide and fuming. Steam rose from Bennett’s body. Mouse realized it had swallowed the holy water. Still, she didn’t remove her hands from their current placement. That was until its eyes rolled back into its head; eyelids flitting for several seconds until closing. Bennett’s body fell limp. 

Mouse took her hand away from the nose and checked for a pulse. She let out a shuddering breath when she found one. It was steady, but not as strong as she would have liked. Still, this was a win.

Ever so slowly, she stepped back from the unconscious form on the dining room table. Her eyes slid over to her friends, who remained in stasis.

“Whatever you two knuckleheads are doing in there, I wish to God you would hurry the fuck up and get back here.”

  
  
  
  


The scene changed for Tomas quickly. Before the small room housing the god of death faded, he had the comfort of knowing he had kicked out of the mindscape a badly wounded Marcus. His partner could yell at him later, if he wanted. Tomas doubted that would happen though.

This new location wasn’t as new as the previous one. He had been here before. The linoleum floor. The smell of disinfectant. The sense of hopelessness and despair. Tomas would recognize the interior of St. Aquinas anywhere. Only one other time had he walked its halls. His previous visit had changed his life.

In a short span of time, he went from being the disillusioned priest of St. Anthony’s to an exorcist in training; eventually leaving behind everything to travel with Marcus and help people in need. Honestly, it was the best decision he had ever made. God had led him to St. Aquinas and Marcus. He had eventually learned to stop doubting the heavenly Father — and himself — after that moment.

A familiar tune reached his ears. Tomas followed the direction of the music. He knew where he would find himself. James Ray’s soothing voice pulled the exorcist down the hallway until he was standing outside Marcus’ old room. For a moment, Tomas swore he saw Marcus as he was then, in an old sweatshirt with ink on his fingers. _Some things never change_ , he thought wryly.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, the Marcus mirage vanished. The room was the same though. An easel in the corner to his left held a work in progress. The desk before him had abandoned sketches. It was just as it was that fateful day with one glaring exception. Tomas couldn’t _feel_ Marcus at all.

That’s not to say he was alone.

“You had to pick this place?” he asked. “Use _that_ song?”

“Figured it worked on Marcus. Why mess with success?” Bennett retorted as he stood behind Tomas. “Didn’t want to meet you anywhere that had meaning.”

“You failed.” There was an undercurrent of heat in Tomas’ voice despite the quiet tone.

He turned to Bennett, who wore his collar with a black suit. “How did you even get me here? One minute I was watching Marcus getting flayed by Erlik. The next I’m with you.” A slight pause. “Do you have visions, too?”

“No visions. You’re still special, Tomas.” His sarcasm belied his strait-laced demeanor. “I don’t know how I do it. I have my suspicions, though.”

Bennett narrowed his eyes. “Is Marcus safe? I didn’t feel him when I plucked you from Erlik’s grasp. His pain….”

Tomas cocked his head slightly. “You _felt_ Marcus? In the mindscape? How? How is that possible?”

“How is _any_ of this possible?” The other man shot back. “I should be dead. Instead, I’m dying a slow death. This isn’t Erlik. This is … _something else._ ”

“You mean God.” Another answer was implausible. Only He could do this. Just as He had blessed Tomas with his gift, He gave Bennett an ability of his own — even if it was only temporary.

“Maybe,” Bennett hedged, not willing to jinx himself just yet.

“We need to stop him. Marcus and Mouse will be working out there,” Tomas pointed out the door behind his ally. He wasn’t comfortable calling Bennett his friend. “So we need to figure out a way to finish the job.”

Bennett shook his head. “I can’t help you, Tomas. Not like that. You’ll have to face Erlik on your own.”

It was as if he had been sucker punched right in the stomach. Tomas’ breath was knocked out of him, the shock evident in his features.

“You need to fight, Bennett. We’re doing this for you as much as for everyone in this town, _in the world._ I know you don’t want to die like this. Fight back! Show this evil sonofabitch that it doesn’t get to win!”

The slow grin that spread across Bennett’s lips was soft and affectionate, matching the look in his eyes. “He has certainly left his mark on you. Our mutual friend. I could hear you both in that speech.”

He sighed. “I do miss him, the cocky, entitled little shit. But look at me, Tomas. Do I look like a man who would survive twelve rounds with a god of death?”

At this, Tomas took a good, hard look at the man before him. Bennett had been through so much in the intervening months since Erlik had taken possession and it showed. Marcus’ description didn’t come close to what Tomas saw now. Sallow skin. Sunken, bloodshot eyes. Blisters, cuts, warts, scabs — none of which had truly healed. Clothes that hung off his deteriorating body.

They were running out of time. However, Tomas wouldn’t be deterred. He knew they were screwed if Bennett didn’t get into the ring with him. Even with the perfect plan, it would take all four of them to take care of Erlik and restore Bennett to his body. That last bit also wasn’t a guarantee. So long as the man’s soul could be saved. Tomas rationalized he could at least do that for him.

He needed help to convince Bennett to stand by his side, and face Erlik once and for all. “At least work with me to come up with a plan on how to defeat him. Don’t let Marcus and Mouse suffer in vain.”

Tomas just hoped his message would be heard.

  
  
  
  


As soon as Marcus came back to his body, he collapsed. He was stunned by the re-entry; disoriented for a brief period. Everything was bright and the sounds were muffled. Then, Mouse was there. She knelt by his side with a concerned look on her face, calling his name. If she was worried, Marcus knew he must look like shit. Lord knew he felt like it.

He lay on the floor, waiting for his senses to snap back into place. The room shifted subtly around him. It started to make him nauseous, so he closed his eyes. This did nothing for Mouse’s fraying nerves. She had one hand on his blood-soaked tank, which clung to him like a scared child. Or maybe he was just projecting. Her other hand cradled the back of his head.

“Marcus!”

Just like that, everything was as it should be. Marcus’ eyes flew open, taking in the scene around him. Nothing moved, including Bennett on the dining room table; his binds still holding firm. _Thank God for small miracles._ Mouse’s voice was clear as a bell, not to mention fearful and annoyed. Even the dial had been turned down on the brightness.

Slowly, Marcus sat up. He immediately regretted it. Each muscle ached; his body sore from the abuse it had taken so far. Glancing down at himself, he surmised the shirt he was wearing should be burned when they were done here. No real loss. He bought them in packs of six for a few dollars each. There were more where this one came from without a doubt.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he gamely tried to assure Mouse as she helped him stand.

“It looks pretty fucking bad, so I’m guessing it’s worse,” she replied tartly. With sincerity, she added, “I’m glad you’re back. He’s getting weaker. Bennett. How did you make it back? Did the other one boot you out?”

Marcus shook his head. “Tomas. Erlik was about to end me when he — I don’t know what to call it — shipped me back here.”

He took notice of his partner then, standing in the same spot he had a few minutes prior. Tomas’ eyes were pure white. His figure was akin to a statue. Marcus hated seeing him in this state, but knew he was in there fighting for Bennett and himself. 

Cupping the younger man’s furry cheek, the facial hair soft beneath his rough skin, Marcus said softly, “Come back to me. Don’t let it take you away from where you belong.”

His thumb ran over Tomas’ supple skin at the curve of his cheek. With a deep breath, Marcus steeled himself for what lay ahead. The pressure on his shoulder blade assured him Mouse had his back. He turned his head in her direction, giving her a small smile.

“We need to keep up the rites,” he informed her, walking toward the foot of the table. “Throw in any benedictions you know. With any luck, we can weaken him enough for whatever Tomas and Bennett have in mind.”

“Give the asshole the one thing he hates most. A religion based on shame, guilt, and makes sure you fall in line with what’s expected.”

“I see you read the same website I did,” he retorted with a smirk.

She shrugged. “It was only a page and hit the important bits. Like studying for exams all over again.” A pause. “What makes you think Tomas and Bennett are working together?”

Now Marcus shrugged. “Wishful thinking. Blind faith. Hope. Pick one. Better that than both of them alone in the dark struggling to survive.” He turned his head and pointed at Bennett’s unconscious form. “Not with that right bastard creeping in the shadows.”

“How bad was it in there?”

His gaze met hers and what she saw unsettled her. “It was a preview of what I have waiting for me should the Church ever get its demonic hands on me.”

He lifted his shirt. The scars and assorted marks distorted his body. What wasn’t caked over with dried blood could be identified as bruises, but only if you were being charitable. There was most likely a broken rib or two. It was worth it should they prove victorious. Otherwise, well, best not to linger on what may never happen.

“Jesus.” The exclamation blew out of Mouse’s mouth as she took in the extent of the damage inflicted on Marcus. She didn’t dare attempt to touch any part of what was on display. 

“That demon is going to pay,” she vowed. “God or not, this ends here.”

A voice caught her attention. Her head whipped around to the dining room table, but Bennett was still unconscious.

Marcus, however, was looking in the opposite direction. “Tomas?”

Still in his affected state, Tomas was saying something that was hard to understand at first. He continued to repeat it, his voice low and toneless. “Bennett … won’t help … can’t fight … won’t fight….”

“Holy shit,” Mouse exclaimed. “You were right. They _are_ together. Wait. What does Tomas mean Bennett can’t or won’t fight?”

He had been afraid of this. Bennett was no shrinking violet. The man had taken on a team of demons back in Chicago and came out as one of two survivors. The other, a demon that martyred itself for the cause a short time later. Not to mention Bennett had taken his life in his hands by going against the corrupted Church in order to ensure Marcus, Tomas and other exorcists out in the field could do the Lord’s work without fear or hindrances. 

However, that was all before his possession. Erlik’s infiltration had taken its toll in the intervening months. Marcus thought back to the other night when he had seen his friend for the first time since before the incident. He had appeared weakened yet hearty. That was after Bennett was punished for his impertinence. Who knew what Erlik had done to him since?

The dark blond knew firsthand a portion of what Bennett went through since arriving in this house. His body pulsed in discomfort at the unwelcome reminder. Marcus needed a way to get Bennett back on board. Especially if this was his former protégé’s final battle. A memory from a long time ago in a country far away forced its way to the surface of Marcus’ mind.

With a fond smile and rekindled hope that they would defeat Erlik, Marcus whispered in Tomas’ ear something he suspected would have the desired effect once Bennett heard what he had to say. He gave his partner’s hand a squeeze when he finished.

An ear-splitting screech followed by the house shaking in its foundations broke the fragile sense of calm created upon Marcus’ return. They turned their attention to the figure strapped down to the table. It vibrated on a higher frequency than either had ever seen. The visage was no longer Bennett’s. 

“Holy Mother of God,” Mouse whispered, astonishment and horror suffusing every inch of her. “O Lord, grant thy protection, and in that protection, strength.”

The now familiar porcine face gazed upon them with vitriol. It shrieked at a pitch that pierced their eardrums and made the walls bleed once again. They covered their ears and bent over in agony.

“Your love and faithfulness,” Mouse continued her prayer as loud as she could manage, “along with Your goodness and mercy, surround me daily, so I will not fear whatever might come against me. My trust is in You, God, and I give thanks to You for Your love and protection. In Jesus' name….”

“Amen,” Marcus concluded.

Then, all the glass in the house — upstairs and down; from the windows to the cabinets to the mirrors — exploded, sending shards slicing through the air.


	26. Chapter 26

The lights in Marcus’ old room at St. Aquinas flickered, making Tomas think of wartime conditions in films. He had never experienced anything like that until now as it occurred to him they were at war. With his focus on defeating Erlik and saving Bennett, he had let that knowledge slip into a distant part of his brain. The time for peace was behind them with the wish it would return soon ever present.

Tomas could not bear the idea that the world was doomed on his watch. He may have been late to the party in terms of being an exorcist, but that didn’t mean things had to go sideways. There was still time for a last-minute goal for his team. They were very good. Though he had only met one or two other exorcists during his time with Mouse, Tomas knew there were more out there fighting the good fight.

When they survived this, the word would spread and more victories would come. They had to. Evil doesn’t win in the end. Call it naïveté. Tomas preferred optimism. It was in the darkest hours he thought of Marcus, Mouse, his late abuela, his sister Olivia, his nephew Luis, the Rance’s, Rose Cooper and her family (Andy Kim’s kids, as he was inseparable from them even in death), and all those he had helped and had gotten to know since Nachburn Island. They were a beacon for all his hopes and aspirations.

“So, your grand plan is to turn his distaste for Catholicism against him?” Bennett asked warily and sarcastically from his seat at Marcus’ desk. “Not exactly the mic drop I had been hoping for if I’m being honest.”

“You know it better than anyone. Or at least you should, unless you’ve been too busy hiding for the past few months,” Tomas spat, annoyance flaring inside him. “I don’t see you coming up with a better idea. Perhaps you have spent too much time behind a desk pulling good priests and exorcists out of the field.”

“Its lack of love for the Church hasn’t been a hot topic of conversation,” his colleague retorted. “Perhaps I should have stabbed it with a crucifix while it tortured me within an inch of my life and abused me psychologically. Might have opened it up on the topic.”

They stared at each other, neither man trusting himself to speak in the heat of the moment. Bennett relented first. Whether out of general fatigue or appreciation of the ticking clock they faced or both.

“It did take great pleasure at violating a man of the cloth. ‘Maidere’ was a name I heard often in the first weeks. If I remember my research in Turkic and Mongolian mythology, he was one of eight men placed upon the earth after it was created by Ulgan. Maidere was responsible for the birth of women; only before he could get the necessary ingredient to bring his alpha female to life, Erlik got to her first and made her independent. The first agnostic, if you will, if you don’t count Erlik.”

Tomas nodded. Bennett’s knowledge was impressive. Whereas Tomas had never even heard of the god of death before arriving in Preston, the scholar had been familiar for, most likely, years. He may be a supercilious twat, but Bennett certainly came in handy. The fact he had been supplying Tomas and Marcus with locations of innocents possessed since they had left Chicago, when Marcus didn’t come across them through his own network, was further proof.

“So you’re saying,” Bennett continued, piecing together Tomas’ true intention, “if we show it just how much power God’s teachings and love give us, how our blind faith strengthens us and our ties to Him, we will weaken and end it. I’m sorry, but how is that different from what we normally do?”

“It’s a fine line, I grant you,” Tomas conceded. He held his hands in front of him as if holding a ball of energy. “With your typical demon, the power is in the repetition. Here, with _this_ demon, this god, the repetition is only the beginning. Erlik doesn’t understand who we are. Who _all_ of humanity is. We have our independence. We _choose_ to love, honor and obey God or not.”

His hands had come together; his fingers interlaced.

The penny dropped for Bennett in this instant and Tomas saw it. Adrenaline surged through his veins. If he could get him to understand, then Bennett would change his mind. He was sure of it.

“Everything Erlik wants mixed with everything he abhors. The perfect Molotov cocktail.” Bennett spoke quietly as the truth sunk in.

“No doubt Marcus has come to the same conclusion. The three of you will undoubtedly pull off this coup. If you need a blessing before you head out, I will, of course, be happy to do so.”

Just like that, Tomas deflated, sinking down onto the bed. As if in alliance, the lights flickered again and the room felt as though it let out a dejected sigh. Or maybe that was simply him. He was about to give up the ghost when he heard a buzzing in the air. 

“Do you hear that?”

Bennett raised his brow quizzically and he slowly shook his head. He listened intently, not wanting to miss a sign indicating Erlik had finally discovered his refuge. There was nothing. What had Tomas heard or thought he had heard?

There it was again. That damn buzzing. However, it wasn’t a buzzing sound, Tomas realized. The adrenaline was back in his bloodstream, but it didn’t account for the lift he felt in his heart. Only one reason could have that effect on him: Marcus. 

Just as he had done when Tomas went against that nameless demon not long after his partner had come back to him, the older man was letting him know he still had his back even when they weren’t sharing the same space.

He listened to what Marcus had to say as Bennett stood up and headed for the door. Tomas didn’t understand the meaning behind his lover’s words, but he didn’t need to; he knew what the intent was.

“Best of luck to you, Tomas. I genuinely hope you and Marcus and Mouse end this bastard once and for all.” Bennett knew he sounded as exhausted as he felt, but didn’t care. If it finally got his point across to the other man, then all the better. He was ready to lay down his sword and never pick it up again.

“Marcus says he understands,” Tomas announced. “He says, you’ve been a strong, dedicated warrior even under these trying circumstances. Thank you for your service.”

This last statement Marcus had told him to say verbatim. 

Bennett came to a halt at the threshold. He stood frozen to the spot. His labored breathing, illustrated by the light rise and fall of his shoulders, the only clue he was still alive.

Closing his eyes, he thought back all the years ago to when he first met Marcus in Algiers. At the end of their first case together, the first of a baker’s dozen appropriately enough, the dark blond had told him those exact words.

_Thank you for your service._

It had been understood to be condescending, but as with most of Marcus’ comments it was a gauge to test where you stood — in general or with him, depending on his mood.

(Despite what Bennett had said about learning from other exorcists, the pair worked often over the two years following. It had deepened and strengthened their friendship. Barbs and dubious actions were merely reminders of how different they were outside the fundamentals.)

“You devious sonofabitch.”

At first, Tomas thought he was talking to him. Then, he worked out it was Marcus who had earned the comment. There was no heat to the words though. Fondness and a touch of dark humor were in its stead.

As Bennett turned to face him, the room shook as though a major earthquake had hit. The lighting fixtures swung from the ceiling. The bed and desk both moved across the floor as neither was particularly solid. The easel with Marcus’ unfinished charcoal drawing fell to the ground. Tomas observed the subject of the portrait, which lay face up. It was him.

“We’re going to need one hell of a blessing,” Bennett noted wryly as he stood in the doorway, each hand clutching the frame on either side.

“Cuanto más fuerte, mejor,” Tomas agreed, not noticing he had slipped into Spanish because he had been distracted by the blood streaming down the walls.

  
  
  
  


A loud, roaring wind blew through the Roosevelt house following the glass assault. The walls shook with a sudden intensity that made Marcus and Mouse wonder if the old residence would come down on them in a final act of retribution. Neither had seen a dwelling react like this. They had heard the stories, but thought them to be nothing more than campfire tales. 

Not anymore.

Just as suddenly as the shaking started, it stopped. The temperature in the dining room dropped to a chilly damp akin to the air after a late fall rainstorm. It wasn’t cold enough for the duo to see their breath. They took it as a good omen and began to regroup.

“Mouse!” Marcus shouted as he got on all fours before finding his feet. He was careful to mind the shards littering the wood floor.

“I’m here,” she groused, pulling herself up by the table with a touch more effort than she liked. 

The wind had jostled them, but the quaking had knocked them over. Mouse took inventory of herself as she brushed off the broken glass that had attached itself to her shirt. She felt slightly woozy, wondering if she had hit her head again when she fell. There was no recollection of such an incident. Then again, if she had a concussion she wouldn’t be the best judge right now.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked when she fell against the tabletop, her hands stopping her from meeting it face first.

Then, he saw the sizable piece jutting out from her thigh. Without a word, he went to the first aid kit. He cut open her pant leg with her permission (“Just do it!”), and went about cleaning the wound and bandaging it. There was no doubt stitches were required.

“We’ll deal with it later,” she told him as she tested out his handiwork. Some blood was already coming through the white gauze. Nothing life threatening. 

Marcus took a long look at a still unconscious Bennett. He finally noticed the bandage on the priest’s hand from where she had stabbed him earlier.

“Misbehaving, was he?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Clearly. Nice patch job.”

“Right back at ya. Thank you, Marcus.”

This got his attention as he pulled his eyes away from one friend to rest upon the face of another. The corner of his mouth pulled up slightly. “You’re welcome. Now how about we end this once and for all?”

“Why aren’t you dead yet?” 

It may have been asked in Bennett’s voice, but the question was all Erlik. Whatever Mouse had done to it had weakened it. Marcus knew more had occurred than a simple blade to the back of the hand. He also was aware that the only reason she had cared for the wound was because of Bennett. She had faith he would need it again and that fueled Marcus into what he knew was the endgame.

“Could ask you the same question,” Mouse shot back. “Maybe a second round will finish you off. We have a few choice words for you, too.”

Erlik scowled, recoiling slightly. “You stupid cow. Blindly following what others have led you to think is the path of the righteous. I offer you freedom from their shackles and you simply reinforce them. Coward.”

“And what of you, lion?” The god turned its vitriol to Marcus. “The good soldier never questions his orders. But I know you do ... every damn day. It’s why I was so optimistic when I gained access to this body. You, who fought the Church every step of the way. I know they weakened your spirit. How are you not joining me, brother?”

Marcus said nothing for a long period. He kept his eyes trained on the face of the man who was, indeed, his brother in all the ways that counted. As he did so, he thought of Bennett, whose tenacity inspired him. 

Of Mouse, whose fearlessness no longer warranted his nickname for her and that made him proud. 

Of Tomas, whose heart and selflessness allowed him to open his own heart wider than it ever had been.

Of the innocents he had worked tirelessly to save over the decades. Whether or not he had succeeded, their bravery in the face of an evil that was one-hundred percent pure drove him to the next embattled soul.

Of God, whose presence was constant, even though Marcus had once doubted it, and whose love had earned Him allegiance from a man who had been broken all his life.

“They did weaken my spirit, but it has since been restored. I left demoralized and humbled. At my lowest, I needed to get as far away from those who care about me because I didn’t believe I was worthy. Worked like a charm. I was alone. Didn’t know a soul. It was quiet and normal, and I was _fucking miserable_.

“But I made my peace with it or so I had thought. Until He,” Marcus raised his forefinger toward the ceiling, “reached out and told me what would happen if I did not get my arse back where it belonged. I had hidden myself away from the world for long enough. I had a calling. People needed me and I needed them.

“When I was pulled into the Church, I was just an acorn. There were multiple times I could have left, but I didn’t. I _chose_ to stay and endure the abuse because I was doing good. I _chose_ to take my vows because I believed in them then just as much as I do now. I _chose_ to work as an exorcist when I had my collar stripped from me because I was reminded that’s not where my power comes from. 

“And I _chose_ to return after I ran like a scared, chastised schoolboy because I am no longer that acorn but a mighty oak who stands tall against all that threatens the good in this world. I am _not_ your brother. I am an exorcist and I will send your selfish, arrogant arse back to Hell!”

As he spoke, Marcus’ voice rose in power until it roared like thunder. His body shook. His nostrils flared. His eyes took on a darker blue like the sky as a storm approached. He was a sight to behold and it had an effect on the heretofore irrepressible god of death.

Mouse kept one eye on Erlik as she listened to Marcus, observing the transformation as he delivered his impassioned speech. This was a side she only heard about from Tomas. To witness such a spectacle was truly a blessing. They had both changed so much since their time at Iona Abbey on the western coast of Scotland.

She saw the first signs of fear from Erlik as Marcus described how his faith is a choice he made with his eyes open, not something that was dictated and he had no say in following. This was it. The time had come.

That was when Mouse saw it: the second iris in Bennett’s right eye.

Marcus noticed it, too, but pressed on undeterred.

“Let us pray.”

  
  
  
  


Darkness surrounded them, impenetrable and unyielding. It came without warning, plunging them into the abyss. They were close in proximity when it arrived and had found each other easily. A hand on a shoulder; another on a hip. Each relaxing when convinced it was the other touching him. Backs pressed together, they began reciting The Lord’s Prayer.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed in the pitch black. Seconds, minutes and hours had their own rules. A little felt like a lot; a lot felt like a little. Fear crawled up Tomas and Bennett as though comprised of hundreds of tiny spiders, ready to devour them inside and out as soon as they opened their mouths to scream.

Once they completed the prayer for the fourth time, Bennett switched to a different one. Perhaps some fresh benediction would strengthen their protection, as well as their resolve, he rationalized. _Sure as hell couldn’t hurt._ Tomas listened while his friend took the lead as he was not familiar with the prayer.

“Your love and faithfulness, along with Your goodness and mercy, surround us daily, so we will not fear whatever might come against us. Our trust is in You, God, and we give thanks to You for Your love and protection. In Jesus' name, amen. Grant, O Lord, thy protection and in protection, strength.”

Instinctively, Tomas crossed himself and kissed the rosary he now held in his hand. He had pulled it from the front pocket of his trousers with no memory of putting it there. “Amen.”

The dark vanished revealing an all too familiar room. They were back where they had started: Bennett’s hidden room upstairs in the Roosevelt house. Blood was smeared on the floor, both fresh and older. There was no denying to whom it belonged. Tomas felt the other priest tense as his own stomach clenched.

Outside the sky was overcast. Dark clouds harbingers of a storm that would roll in soon. There was an eerie emptiness about the place. A void where both men knew Erlik should be. Neither could feel his presence yet were aware he had to be close. The imagery was a bit too on the nose for them.

“Feels like a horror movie,” Tomas commented, unable to stand the quiet any longer. “Any minute now the one in the hockey mask or the striped sweater with blades for fingers or Leatherface is going to appear when we least expect it.”

Bennett looked at him sideways as they now stood side by side. “You can remember Leatherface, but not Jason or Freddy Krueger?”

Tomas swallowed as he met his gaze. “One never forgets Leatherface.”

The other man considered this for a few seconds before jumping onto something else his friend said. “If you know one of them is coming any minute, you can hardly not expect it. That sentence doesn’t even make sense.”

“Of course, it makes sense,” Tomas argued. “You know there’s a killer out to get you. It is too quiet in the room. He must be nearby because where else would he be? You make a move and _BAM!_ There he is with his machete, killer glove, chainsaw, whatever. Ready to take you out.”

Silence filled the room once more as Bennett stared at him longer this time. “Your logic is sound, but your grammar could be improved.”

“Of course, you would find fault in something as trivial as that,” Tomas groused as he felt his fear abate thanks to the other priest’s nitpicking.

“No one is perfect, Tomas.”

“Case in point.”

Bennett rather enjoyed their banter despite it being a topic he had little interest in regardless of his basic knowledge. His own trepidation had resided in the interim. He knew it was only temporary as Tomas had made an excellent point with his horror movie analogy.

As though on cue, the door to the room slammed open. Erlik lumbered into view looking nothing like its former selves. No longer wearing its Anna skin or even Bennett’s, the god was in its true form. It appeared as though it had been tortured to the same degree as it had done to Bennett. 

“You miserable, selfish cunts will pay for what you’ve done to me!” Its voice sliced through the air in a high-pitched squeal that hurt the men’s eardrums. “This house won’t get the last word. I’ll gut you all and feast on your hearts and drink your blood like it’s the finest merlot.”

Hands to their ears as Erlik shrieked while vowing its revenge, Tomas and Bennett glanced at each other. Now was their moment. The god of death was weak and raving. They hoped Marcus and Mouse were doing their part in the real world. If not, this was going to be quick. Together, they made the sign of the cross before Erlik and began The Lord’s Prayer in unison:

“‘Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.”

Seamlessly, they slipped into reciting the rites of exorcism. Their voices were powerful and full of conviction. As they spoke, the house shook again. Only now it seemed as though it wasn’t just the floor that quaked. The ceiling vibrated violently. None of that mattered.

All that concerned the exorcists was defeating the stain of evil that stood before them. Erlik’s porcine features distorted as it screamed and shouted in a language that was unfamiliar to either priest’s ears. Bennett surmised it might be Mongolian, but that was a debate for another time.

As they waged war against the demon who raged at them in turn, the promised storm arrived. It brought heavy rain, booming thunder and roaring winds. The room continued to shake, with the ceiling under constant attack from Mother Nature. 

A warning shot rang out as the only window in the tiny space burst, sending fragments of glass in the direction of the three figures present. Debris buried itself in the skin of the trio, who paid no attention. 

The wind whipped through the room, sending the few items in it flying. Loose floorboards smacked Bennett in the back, but missed Tomas who ducked at precisely the right moment. Instead, it knocked into Erlik’s head causing it to let loose the most piercing squeal yet. 

Tomas had one hand on Bennett’s back as the other man had fallen to his knees after being hit. He nodded to his friend that he was okay. Neither had stopped with the ritual, determined to see this through to the end — whatever that may be.

Erlik wasn’t completely powerless. It shredded Tomas’ torso in a fit of rage, laughing hysterically at the man’s scream. While it did slow him down, it didn’t force Tomas to stop. Despite the searing pain, he persevered.

With Bennett, however, the god did not make the same mistake. It grabbed hold of his throat, fully intending to crush his windpipe. “Why won’t you stop talking?!” 

Its hand squeezed the exorcist’s throat, cutting off the air supply to the rest of his body. Bennett fought as best he could in his weakened condition. His eyes fluttered as they rolled into the back of his head.

Watching in horror, Tomas could do nothing except continue with their plan. “My dear Lord, my beloved savior, please help Your loyal soldier Bennett in his hour of need. Forgive this god of death for what it is about to do and deliver it unto Your grace and love. Forgive Erlik as both I and Bennett will. We come to You willingly and with open hearts. In Your name, Amen.”

Another merciless squeal came from the god. Its grip tightening around Bennett’s throat. The veil between the living and the dead so sheer, the demon could swear it could see through to the other side.

“I will take your life here and now. But know your end will never come, Devon Bennett, because you will be my bitch until I grow tired of you. _Which I never will._ ”

Erlik nearly got its wish.

The ceiling was ripped away by the storm along with the roof of the house. This opening allowed the rain to pour inside. Myriad drops of water hit the wood floor, quickly soaking not only the room, but its occupants.

Agony descended upon only one. Erlik’s screams were of a pitch now that Tomas and Bennett could no longer continue the exorcism. They huddled together on the sopping wet floor, hands covering their ears, watching the spectacle unfolding before them. 

Rain water flowed down Erlik’s throat, presented so perfectly with its head tilted back and mouth open. As it did on the dining room table, it choked on the water and its body began to vibrate at an alarming frequency.

No longer deafened by the sound the god of death emitted, Tomas and Bennett resumed reciting the rites of exorcism. Taking heed that the power was in the repetition.

“The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!” they extolled.

Erlik was immobile as it stood before them with its back arched, legs parted, knees bent, and arms akimbo. It looked as defiant as ever yet there was little to no life left in its form.

Tomas clutched Bennett’s arm, but the dark-skinned priest had already worked out what his friend had. 

“Now’s my chance.” His brown eyes met the hazel ones beside him; a hand covering Tomas’. “Thank you.”

Then, he was gone.

Standing slowly, Tomas sensed his body healing. He was having a surreal sense of déjà vu. Of standing in the ruins of St. Anthony’s, his old parish in Chicago which had since been torn down. The ruins he was thinking of hadn’t been real. They had been in a place akin to this; in a place not of his own making.

Arms by his side, the hand not holding the crucifix flexed as though holding someone’s hand. A familiar sense of peace and love flowed through him, fortifying him. His eyes darkened with determination. His mouth opened and the words of God poured out.

The god of death calcified as Tomas spoke. A horrible statue that should be destroyed, not revered. He wanted to tip it over desperately, but it was not his place. God would handle the cleanup. This place had lost its hold on him. It was with gratitude and relief he left.

“Gracias, mi Santo Padre.”

  
  
  
  


The barrage of prayers, exorcism rites and holy water had taken its toll on the body of Devon Bennett and the demon within. There was no way to stop now as both Marcus and Mouse appreciated they were in too deep. It was down to a battle of wills. 

Who would come out on top? The pair were rooting for their friend. Mouse understood he was stubborn and belligerent as she was from their short time together. Marcus had been friends with the man for years. Bennett was tenacious and proud on top of the other two. He wouldn’t bet against him if the priest was fighting the Devil itself. 

Even if he had integrated with Erlik.

Without warning, the coolness of the dining room dropped down to an arctic chill. The temperature plunging till their breaths were visible. Suddenly, the bloody tank top Marcus was wearing seemed like a stupid fashion choice. He remembered seeing a blanket or something similar draped across the back of the couch in the living room.

Walking into the adjacent area to grab it, he raised his voice while delivering the words he knew by heart. The blanket was a crocheted afghan that was wide enough to envelop three Marcus’ comfortably. He wrapped it around his shoulders and returned to the dining room where Bennett’s body began to thrash on the table.

The legs clamored against the hardwood floor as the body on top struggled furiously to break free. Again, the lights flickered. A strong gust of wind blew through the house, swirling around the trio. There was nothing fragile in sight to destroy. All the glass had been shattered during the last round.

“No! NO! You made a deal! It was binding!” Erlik roared using Bennett’s voice. 

It fell into silence, seemingly listening.

“You knew what you were doing when you said, ‘Yes!’ Don’t you dare try to guilt me into admitting anything! It’s not my fault you were too stupid to figure out that there’s always a catch when you make a deal with a demon!

“You should consider yourself lucky! Instead of a mere minion, you landed the attention of a god! Be grateful I was bored and wanted to play. You and your worthless, disgusting brood would have been dead within five days if not for me!”

Erlik’s eyes grew wide as the color drained from its face.

Marcus and Mouse had lowered their voices to take in as much of the scene as possible without the need to halt the exorcism completely. They caught each other’s eyes and saw the fear mirrored in both. The god had either been driven mad by the exorcism or they were not alone in the house. One name came to mind instantly: James Roosevelt.

It was impossible to tell exactly what was being said to Erlik; but judging from his expression it wasn’t palatable. What Marcus and Mouse initially thought was the wind became something more ethereal upon closer inspection. Though the words never stopped flowing from their lips, they listened keenly to discover the wind was whispering to the god of death.

No soft caresses, these murmurs were sharp and brittle. They also were multiplying. Whereas before it had been a single whisper, now there were many. Erlik shouted to be left alone and not be touched. Apparently, his new friends took no heed and molested him via his mind. The eyes, which were no longer Bennett's, took on a glassy black veneer before rolling back into its head. They closed a few seconds later as the body lay limp once more.

———

Inside the mindscape, Erlik ran from its tormentors. They could never get their hands on it. The thought made it sick to its stomach. Upstairs. That’s where it was now. Away from those fucking exorcists in the dining room. They nearly did it. So close were they to ending its life. _They._ There were two more loose in here somewhere. Where, oh where, had Tomas and Bennett gotten? 

In its true form of a pig’s head on a male body, Erlik lifted its snout and sniffed the air. Here, but not here. Clever Bennett. Hiding in his little cubby hole. It really must figure out where that was. No time. Another scent, one it found completely foul, tore through its nostrils. They were close. If it didn’t move, they would find it. 

Hallway after hallway it tore through for several minutes before the paranoia penetrated its brain, having its way with its new chew toy. There was no way out. It was the same hallway, never ending. This newfound awareness was its downfall. James Roosevelt and several generations of his family — including his sister, Elizabeth Morgan, and Christopher Roosevelt, until recently the last remaining relative — dragged Erlik into the master bedroom and bound him to the bedposts as it lay spread eagle on the mattress.

What followed was a vicious exorcism conducted with so much hate and fury it might as well have been classified as torture. It was given in Latin; each word spat at Erlik, hitting him as though laced with holy water. By the time the family threw him out of the room the god of death was pocked with welts, lacerations, burns and scratches. It had never known spirits to be corporeal. Then again, it had never dealt with specters till now. Its luck really had gone to shit.

After traversing the hallways for a period, staggering to and fro as it struggled to stay upright, its pointed ears perked up. Voices up ahead; male judging by the timbre. Then, it recognized them. It found a second wave of energy as vengeance fueled it toward its final battle with Tomas and Bennett.

As it happened, vitriol was not enough to make the god victorious. Its weakened state did not help, though Erlik did manage to make the cub bleed and Bennett suffer one last time. The appearance of God in the form of a rampaging storm was unexpected but, upon reflection, not surprising. The god had a few minutes to make peace with its fate.

When it calcified, it took the form it was most often associated with: a totemic bear. There was no peace to be made, however. It had lost due to hubris. Erlik hated the humans who had reduced him to this state. Its hate for God was just as strong. 

After Tomas left, the totem caught fire and burned till there was nothing left but ash.

———

Once Bennett’s body fell unconscious, the temperature in the dining room rose considerably until it was above even the previously damp conditions. Marcus kept the afghan tight around him as he watched his friend for any signs of life — demonic or otherwise. There were none.

“I think it’s gone,” Mouse announced, a bit shell shocked by what she had just witnessed. Her eyes were also on Bennett.

“Perhaps. I’ll believe it when he’s back where he belongs,” Marcus replied. His guard was up. He had seen too much in his decades as an exorcist to rest on his laurels now when so much was at stake.

Mouse looked at him, taking in his steely countenance, and shifted the conversation. “So much for this not being an Amityville situation.” In a light, teasing tone, she added, “Thanks for nothing, Agnes.”

Marcus snorted. He looked around the room. “I don’t think she was wrong. Though there’s no denying there are ghosts of Roosevelts past stuck here. I had wondered as much when I was upstairs in Bennett’s private room. Granted, that was just Bennett trying to get my attention. Once we finish, I’ll contact a few people I know in the area and see if they can get this place sorted.”

“And the fairgrounds.” Mouse remembered vividly Tomas’ reaction when they visited the former home of the carnival a few days ago. He would agree with her on that.

They were silent for a few minutes. Mouse grabbed one of the overturned chairs that went with the table and sank into it, enjoying being off her feet for what felt like the first time in days. Marcus stayed in position, refusing to move an inch; his eyes flitting between Tomas and Bennett.

“I’m sorry for pushing you to tell me what you knew about Bennett the other day in the truck,” she told him.

“No, you’re not.” He turned his gaze to her as he spoke.

A small grin played on her lips. “I’m not. Why didn’t you just tell me? He’s my friend, too.”

“Because despite what you’ve seen, little church mouse, you’ve never opened your mind or your heart. You would have laughed me out of the truck and then had me committed. Or worse, tossed back into St. Aquinas.”

“I would never put you in there,” she vowed vehemently. “I still can’t believe you let yourself be locked away in that hellhole.

“You’re right about the rest of it.” Her mood lightened briefly. “Just would be nice if you could tell me things.”

“We haven’t earned that. Not yet. Stick around and maybe we will.”

She lifted and dropped her shoulder noncommittally. “We’ll see.”

In truth, Mouse would like to have a real friendship with Marcus again. It’s not the first time she had thought about it. She missed her friend more than ever. Fighting alongside him today, spending time with him the past few days; it had been great. Wanting more wasn’t the problem; it was the sticking around part. That had never been her strong suit; especially once Marcus had bailed all those years ago.

A strangled sound came from Tomas. He was bleeding across his torso, lines of dark red staining his black shirt. Marcus ripped open the fabric at the buttons, sending them scattering across the floor. There were lacerations as though an animal had swiped him with its claws.

“Tomas?” Marcus asked, voice trembling as hands rested on the other man’s sides. He heard Mouse behind him scrambling to get the first aid kit. “You’re okay, luv. It’s just a few scratches. You’re doing so well. I’m right here. Just going to clean you up a bit.”

With Mouse’s assistance, they had the cuts cleaned up and bandaged as well as possible. Provisions were getting thin. They prayed no one else would require medical attention until after the dust settled. As they worked, Marcus noticed Tomas’ breathing evened out. It had been shallower when he first groaned alerting them to his injury.

Mouse left them alone under the pretense of putting the kit away. She didn’t go far in case all hell broke loose, but kept her distance just the same.

“Looking better already,” Marcus assured Tomas. “Don’t be mad about the shirt. I know you have loads more. You think I don’t, but I do. Honestly don’t know where you keep them. God, I hope I haven’t fallen for a hoarder. Can gypsies like us even _be_ hoarders? We don’t even have a caravan, for fuck’s sake. You better not have a storage unit somewhere.”

He grinned at his own idiocy. “I know I’m babbling. I do that when I’m scared. Sure you’ve figured that out by now.”

Marcus took his hand. “I know it’s in there with you. Be careful, Tomas. Just finish kicking that demon’s arse and come home.”

Behind him, Mouse saw Bennett’s body stir. His eyes moved under the closed lids, but remained closed. She closed the gap between them and placed her hand in his. “Bennett?” she asked softly.

Turning from Tomas, Marcus put a hand on Bennett’s forehead. It was clammy with dried sweat clinging to the skin. “We’re here, mate. Fight your way back. Do it and you can read me the riot act for all my reckless behavior since you’ve been gone.”

Bennett’s lips flexed. His mouth opened and closed. His tongue licked his lips. “Finally,” he rasped. “A reason to live.”

Laughing, Marcus and Mouse watched as their friend’s eyes fluttered open, the second iris fading away. “You stuck it out,” Bennett said. “I’m flattered.”

“You should be. We nearly killed each other in the process,” Mouse teased.

“A small price to pay.”

Marcus’ joy was short-lived as he looked back at Tomas who was still standing in the same spot. The older man returned to his spot in front of his lover and slipped his hand back where it belonged.

Not long after, Marcus felt his hand squeezed and Tomas’ chest rise with a quick intake of breath. Marcus lifted his head from that spot just in time to see the hazel return to his partner’s irises.

Tomas collapsed into his boyfriend’s arms, holding him in a tight embrace. “Estoy en casa, Marcus. No te preocupes, cariño.”


	27. Chapter 27

A coughing fit broke the spell over the happy couple’s reunion. Mouse cut the binds on Bennett’s wrists and ankles, but wished she hadn’t as he convulsed violently once free. Marcus and Tomas rushed to his side with Tomas pinning his shoulders and Marcus holding down his legs. Mouse ran to the living room to pull her phone out of her bag. She tucked it away on silent for now.

On her way back, she stopped in the kitchen to get a glass of water. With that cough and his throat no doubt raw after all the screaming, not to mention the torture his body went through while possessed, it couldn’t hurt to get some fluids in him until the ambulance arrived. Mouse wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Bennett returning to a hospital under her watch, but this time was going to be different.

He stopped coughing by the time she entered the dining room. After scouring the drawers in the kitchen, she had found a towel and wet it. She handed it to Tomas, who placed the cool cloth on Bennett’s scorching forehead. The worried look Tomas gave Marcus had not gone unnoticed by Mouse. Bennett was sweating like, well, a pig and his breathing was shallow.

“Get him up a little,” she demanded. “He needs to drink. God only knows when the last time he had anything proper in him.”

Marcus and Tomas carefully raised Bennett until he was at an angle where he could properly drink from the glass. He choked on the water as he sipped, but didn’t give an indication he had had enough. This gave them more hope that he would be okay; aware he wasn’t out of the woods yet. 

With about a quarter of the water in his system, Bennett turned his head away. He was done for now. The other men lowered him onto the table to rest. “Need a break,” he panted. “More later.”

“Of course,” Tomas agreed. “We’ll try again soon.”

Bennett stared up at the one who stood by his side in that hellscape and got him out safely. “Thank you,” he whispered, tears in his eyes.

Tomas nodded with a soft smile, his own eyes wet. “You’re welcome. But it was a group effort.”

The priest turned his head to look at Marcus, who gazed at him with unshed tears pooled in his blue eyes. Bennett briefly cast his eyes down as he took in his friend’s hand clutching his own before returning his gaze. 

“You always did … like a challenge. Thank God ... you haven’t changed a bit ... in your old age.”

This got a huge grin from Marcus. “Two peas in a pod, you and I. Knew you would dig in your heels and fight your way back.”

“Almost didn’t.”

“As if,” the dark blond scoffed. “You were tired, that’s all. You shook it off when it counted.”

The corner of Bennett’s mouth lifted briefly. “I’ll need … a written account … of your many fuckups … since I’ve been away. In my email … by noon tomorrow.”

Marcus cackled with delight. “Oh, mate. I’m going to need a bit more time than that if you want it to be thorough.”

“The highlights will do for now.” Another coughing fit took over Bennett. His body violently shook with each attack. The fit lasted for just over a minute and took out what little energy he had left.

“Mouse…” Marcus now had an edge in his voice.

“I’m calling 9-1-1,” she said. There was no connection when she dialed. A quick check showed there were no reception bars. “Shit. All the updates they’ve made to this place and no one thought to make sure you could make a damn phone call?”

“Should I wake Bennett to see if he knows the Wi-Fi password?” Tomas retorted sarcastically.

She glared while Marcus looked at him with pride. “Jesus fucking Christ he really _has_ rubbed off on you. I’m going outside. If nothing else, the Jemson’s should be able to help me out.”

When the couple was alone, save for an unconscious Bennett, Tomas caught Marcus’ eye. He grinned adorably as his cheeks flushed. “Shut up.”

“I have never been prouder of you than I am at this moment,” the older man gushed.

Tomas rolled his eyes, but he lapped up the praise like a cat given a bowl of cream. He nearly said something else before Mouse called out for them.

“You guys need to see this,” she added.

They reluctantly left a resting Bennett to see what had Mouse so unnerved. It had to be something particularly horrific. Visions of the Jemson family killed or maybe Mouse’s friend, Lara, filled their heads. Perhaps a whole road filled with demons? The sight that greeted them when they came to the threshold was the last thing they had expected. 

Just as they had the night the piercing scream came from within the Roosevelt house not long after Erlik had taken up residence, the neighborhood stood on the front lawn of the house. This time, the crowd spilled out onto the street in the purple twilight holding lit candles in their hands.

Hours had passed since Marcus, Tomas and Mouse had sent Halley Louise home with Lara close behind after saving them from the god of death in the side yard of the house. The darkness had come as a surprise as they had been so preoccupied with the events inside, it had never occurred to them to spare a moment to glance at the space where the windows once were.

“What’s this?” Marcus asked the crowd as he stepped outside.

“It’s a vigil,” Tomas replied softly.

“We’ve come to pray for your souls,” Halley Louise informed them as she stepped forward, her hair pulled back into one loose braid. “The four of you. You _did_ save your friend?”

She looked at each of them expecting a confirmation, which she received. Her lips curved up in relief. “Is he okay? How can we help?”

“He needs an ambulance,” Mouse told her. “I can’t get reception here.”

“One’s on the way.” Lara joined the exorcists and Halley Louise. “As soon as you opened the door, I made the call.” She shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea.”

Mouse smiled shyly at her lover, who mirrored her expression. “Thank you.”

“You’re all here for us?” Tomas queried. He was awed by the compassion of these people whom they did not know and who did not know them.

The neighbors nodded. Halley Louise and her parents had been outside the house keeping watch since Lara and the girl made it out safe and sound. The Jemson’s had wanted to do something for their new friends, but were at a loss until their daughter suggested keeping watch.

“A prayer vigil. Four of us. Four of them.”

So they had stood on the front lawn since mid-afternoon. Their neighbors had trickled in as they came home from work, school, wherever. Each had asked what they were doing standing in front of _that_ house. Did they want the Devil to come for them? When the truth was revealed, every person stood with them in solidarity. As it grew dark, someone had arrived with white candles from a local church that used them for the Christmas candlelight service.

They had borne witness to the house seemingly attacking the occupants as the windows blew in and the entire structure rumbled, threatening the very lives that were there to save them all. No one moved. As long as those good people were inside doing the Lord’s work or the work of the just (not everyone believed in God), then they would remain.

It wasn’t long before each person knew the names of Marcus Keane, Tomas Ortega, Mouse, and Devon Bennett. That night, a neighborhood became a community.

A woman in her early forties made her way to the steps and introduced herself as an emergency room doctor. She showed them her badge, which she had in the pocket of her jacket as she was still in her scrubs. Having finished an eighteen-hour shift, she came home to find everyone congregated here. Despite her fatigue, she stayed and now understood why.

The trio let her into the house to check on Bennett. A couple minutes later, the ambulance arrived. While the emergency medical technicians worked on him and prepared him for transport to the nearest trauma center, Marcus slipped out the back door. He had been looked over and treated with the promise he would have a doctor give him a proper once over.

Tomas followed after his own time with the technicians, knowing Mouse would keep an eye on their friend. After their shared trauma, he absolutely considered Bennett his friend. He was confident the feeling was mutual. Though he suffered no illusions that their relationship, such as it was, would change. All Tomas had to do was look at the seemingly contentious friendship of Marcus and Bennett.

Marcus stood in the yard with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and his head tilted up toward the heavens. He no longer wore the bloody tank top, but a dark navy hoodie loaned to him by a handsome young man in his mid- to late-twenties. This man had run to his car, parked nearby to grab the shirt out of the back of his trunk.

“I don’t need it back,” he had told Marcus as Tomas stood within earshot. “Unless you _want_ to return it. In that case, my number’s in the pocket.”

“That boy is never getting this hoodie back,” Tomas declared now, wearing a borrowed white, collegiate long-sleeved T-shirt and slinking his arms around his boyfriend’s waist from behind. He rested his chin on Marcus’ shoulder. “Suppose I can’t blame him for trying though.”

A chuckle rumbled in the older man’s chest. “If only I weren’t smitten with another young man. Beginning to think I have a type….”

“A type named Tomas Ortega of Chicago.”

Wrapping his own arms over Tomas’, Marcus barked out a laugh. “Accept no substitutes.”

“You can’t anyway. There are none. Just me.” Tomas pressed his lips to his lover’s shoulder.

“You’re all I want, luv,” Marcus purred. “All I’ll ever want.”

He turned so he could face his partner, his hands on Tomas’ hips. “As much as I love this attention, shouldn’t you be getting in the ambulance with Bennett?”

Tomas raised his brow. “Shouldn’t you? We’ve all taken more hits than are normal.”

“Says the man who took a claw hammer to the head not that long ago. I’m still amazed all you had was a concussion.”

“We both know I have a hard head. I think those headaches I get when the air is damp is because of that.”

Marcus took Tomas’ face in his hands and kissed his forehead. “My poor boy. A side effect of the job. I still have moments from you slamming me against the wall at Mother Bernadette’s when we were exorcising Casey Rance.”

Casey was the youngest daughter of Angela Rance. It was Tomas’ first case of exorcism as a priest and what brought him into the field. Angela’s husband, Henry, had told Tomas of Marcus, pointing him in the direction of St. Aquinas just outside of Chicago. Henry had been briefly tapped as a prophet just as Halley Louise had been.

“I _am_ sorry for that. But it’s just another reason why we’re perfect for each other.” Tomas kissed him chastely. After comparing their case histories, he was starting to look forward to his impending hospital visit.

“Lara said she would take us once Bennett was ready. Are you okay? Is your connection with God fading?”

“Can’t a man just take a breath and look at the stars without being accused of having yet another crisis of faith?” Marcus teased. “I’m fine. I am good with God, I promise you.

“What about you? How are you doing?” He grew more concerned when he threw the focus back on Tomas.

“I am tired, but good. We won, Marcus. Bennett is back and safe. Erlik is _gone_.” He sighed. “Once we are free of the doctors, I just want to crash into the nearest bed with you for the next three to five years.”

Mouse appeared near the corner of the house. “They’re taking him. We should go.”

She vanished as quickly as she manifested. They made their way back toward the house, wanting to grab their gear before heading out. As they walked, Marcus took Tomas’ hand.

“Staying in bed with you for the next three to five years sounds bloody perfect. Now we just need a place where no one can find us or bother us.”

“We will.” Tomas squeezed his hand. “Have a little faith.”

  
  
  
  


From the moment they got to the hospital, the group refused to leave Bennett’s side. He had been wheeled in almost immediately. However, Lara persuaded Marcus, Tomas and Mouse to have the emergency room doctors do a full checkup on them when it was clear Bennett would be under the knife for some time. Lara camped out in the waiting room of Preston Memorial Hospital’s surgical wing for hours until one by one each of them returned. 

The emergency room doctor who attended the vigil, and tended to Bennett while they waited on an ambulance, acted as liaison between the hospital and the group. Her name was Carla Benedetti and she stayed by their side for the entirety of Bennett’s nineteen-hour surgery.

When the head surgeon came out to inform the foursome that Bennett survived the surgery despite some complications, Carla translated the medical jargon so their exhausted brains could comprehend. Bennett was going to be in the intensive care unit for awhile because he was in serious condition.

“That he survived the surgery is a testament to his strength,” the surgeon said. “Your friend is a fighter. There were a couple times when I thought we were going to lose him on the table. We’ll know more in a few days.”

“This is good news,” Carla assured them once the surgeon left. “Getting through the surgery is step one. I saw how bad Bennett was and I’m honestly shocked he’s made it this far. It’s a miracle.”

“That’s because you don’t know Devon Bennett.” It came out harsher than Marcus had intended, but she took no offense.

“I think I’m beginning to,” she replied. “The three of you are dead on your feet and no help to him now. He’s also not going to be allowed visitors for at least twenty-four hours, so you might as well go crash. You’re at the motel on Route 40? I can drop you off if you like. It’s on my way.”

Mouse glanced at Lara, who nodded. “I’m actually going back to Lara’s. I’ll pick up the truck in the morning and then take Marcus back to get your vehicle.”

There was no response from the older man, so Tomas told her that would be fine.

Before leaving, Carla left word with a friend who worked in the intensive care unit so Marcus, Tomas and Mouse could receive updates on Bennett. She had Marcus listed as next of kin as a precaution.

While she did this, Tomas and Mouse had a moment alone with Marcus.

“Come back to us,” the younger man whispered in his ear.

This jolted him back to reality. He ran a hand over his face as the other sat on his hip. “Sorry. I was … somewhere else.”

“Bennett isn’t going anywhere, Marcus. It may take time, but he will be his usual irascible self again. Annoying us with his sanctimonious bullshit.” Mouse’s mouth twitched.

“She’s right,” Tomas assured him as he rubbed a hand over Marcus’ lower back. “You’ll be pulling a gun on him again before too long.”

“Sorry, what?” She looked expectantly at the dark blond, who wore a rueful grin.

“Domestic dispute. A difference of opinion.”

Her own grin broke out into a knowing smile. “You never did like to be challenged. Marcus knows best.”

He snorted, but said nothing more for a moment. “I just don’t want him to have come this far only to….”

Tears ran down his cheeks. He sniffed and ran his sleeve across his nose. “I won’t bury him. I won’t fucking do it.”

Marcus fell into Tomas’ arms, clinging to his lover while he buried his face in his neck and sobbed. Tomas held him close; his heart breaking over how distraught Marcus was over Bennett and how he could do nothing to ease his pain.

Mouse crossed her arms over her chest, hunching her shoulders. She felt helpless; not comfortable enough emotionally to reach out to her friend and wracked with guilt that this all could have been avoided if she had just paid more attention in Maria Walters’ bedroom in Chicago.

Bennett had saved her life then, and now, all these months later, could be on the cusp of losing his own as a result of his selfless act. If she hadn’t needed saving, he would have been with her when she found Marcus and Tomas on Nachburn Island instead of being taken over by a demon in a hospital not so different from this one.

She vowed then and there to never abandon him again. Should he get through this, she would be by his side whenever he asked and even when he didn’t. Part of her always knew this would be the bargain she would make with God. Spare Bennett and she would repay her debt until her last breath. A bigger part of her hadn’t thought beyond getting him back with his soul intact.

Despite knowing what occurred that had led to Bennett’s possession, Marcus didn’t blame Mouse. It could just have easily been him in her place with the same result. No, the only blame lay with the evil that took advantage of Bennett while he couldn’t fight back. The insidious specter that infected Marcus now was an old friend he had never been able to shake: guilt. A benefit of a life within the Catholic Church, it spread through him with such stealth he didn’t even realize it had bloomed until it was too late. His confession slipping out in a whisper.

“I failed him.” 


	28. Chapter 28

The days stretched out long for Marcus while Bennett was recuperating in the hospital. Bennett’s doctor had him in a medically induced coma to help aid his healing process following his surgery. Visitors were kept to a minimum. Luckily for Marcus, he was marked as next of kin on Bennett’s admission papers, thanks to his favorite emergency room doctor. He made sure to use every precious second of those thirty minutes each day the on-duty nurse allowed. 

When he wasn’t spending his allotted half-hour at Preston Memorial, Marcus found there were other ways to occupy his time. He kept himself busy, with Tomas’ encouragement, as there were still a few loose ends to tie up — primarily with the Roosevelt house. 

Mouse had offered to call a few of her contacts, as well, to help exorcise the place when she, Marcus and Tomas had gathered to discuss next steps the afternoon after Bennett’s surgery. The spirits aiding in their vanquishing of Erlik remained utmost in their minds. The trio spent long hours over three days making phone calls with Tomas aiding Marcus through his list as he had twice as many names on his. Tracking down the various exorcists, shaman and the like took time.

Once they had a team in place to help them perform the ritual, they set about gathering the necessary tools for the job. Leaders from the local religious institutions were more than happy to lend a hand however they could. Priests, rabbis, ministers all supplied what they could and offered to hold a prayer circle on the front lawn of the house the day of the exorcism. As this was their town, their home, they all wanted to protect it and keep it safe. It was decided this was a wonderful idea.

———

The Jemson’s had essentially adopted Marcus and Tomas during this time. They had dinner with them each night and hung out until well after Halley Louise went to bed. Meg made sure to dutifully pack them leftovers, including breakfast scrambles that could be reheated in the microwave in their room and sandwiches for lunch.

“Is this what it's like to have a mum who cares?” Marcus asked Tomas one night as they walked back to their vehicle with their care packages in tow. His tone was joking, but the curiosity shone through nonetheless.

The weather had returned to a more seasonal feel with light layers and jackets required. Despite the crisp notes in the air, he felt his body flush when his boyfriend took his hand. 

Tomas squeezed it affectionately. “It is. Just wait till we get a place with a kitchen. You’ll never go hungry again.”

“Think that will happen? Us getting our own place?” It hadn’t occurred to him to dream of a house with a picket fence and a nice backyard. Hell, even the thought of a decent flat with good water pressure had eluded him.

“I was thinking more of a nice motel room…,” Tomas said lightly. “But I have fantasized about it. Nothing fancy. A cozy spot with enough space so we’re not on top of each other unless we want to be.”

He planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s neck before releasing his hand to cross over to the passenger side door. To his surprise, Marcus caught his hand.

“Am I a bad boyfriend for never considering this?”

“No, querido. Our life … it doesn’t allow for such thoughts. They could get us killed if we aren’t careful. I don’t care where I lay my head so long as yours is on the pillow next to mine. When are you going to get that through your skull?”

Marcus’ mouth quirked. “Says the other obstinate man in this relationship.”

His fingers laced through Tomas’. “I want so much for you.”

The younger man smiled, his eyes soft. “Just as I do for you. So how about we go back to our room, put tomorrow’s meal in the tiny fridge and let me show you how much I love you?”

“Keep this up and I may start trusting this is the real deal.” He brushed his lips against Tomas’, enjoying the bulge in the other man’s pants that grazed his own.

———

Mouse vacated her motel room a couple days after Bennett was admitted to the intensive care unit. She hadn’t been allowed to see him, but called the nurses’ station each morning and again in the evening to get a progress report. He was stable, but his condition was still listed as serious. This ritual allowed her to breathe a little easier.

However, she would feel more at ease once he awoke from his coma.

Another thing that helped calm her was staying with Lara. When the question was asked, Mouse hadn’t hesitated. She had her bag packed, and her serial killer board dismantled and discarded in less than ten minutes. Her key was turned in and her bill paid not five minutes after that. It was the easiest decision she had made in her life. In truth, the thought of spending another night alone in that room filled her with dread.

Something had shifted inside her since her ordeal with Halley Louise in the basement of the Roosevelt house. Mouse couldn’t put her finger on it exactly, but her need for human contact had risen exponentially. She found herself touching Lara more than any other person before her. A hand on her shoulder or knee. Fingers brushing hers. A shoulder bump. 

“Don’t be shy,” Lara told her one night while they were having a beer on the front porch. They were sitting on a porch swing under a blanket and Mouse was hesitantly playing with Lara’s fingers. “I’m a sensual person. I’d love it if you want to rub my back, play with my hair, cuddle. I want to do all of that and more with you. Just don’t want to scare you off.”

“You won’t.” Mouse ran a thumb over her lover’s lips. Then, she nuzzled her neck. “I'm just new to all this. I’m not normally so touchy feely.”

“Not this way with the boys, hmm? This is all for me?” There was a touch of humor in Lara’s tone to offset the sincere flattery she felt from this knowledge.

The brunette scoffed. “They get enough from each other. Not that I would ever want to be like this with them. Not now.”

It took Lara a moment to process what Mouse just admitted. “Wait. You and who? Marcus?”

Mouse shrugged. “It was a crush. Another life.”

“Fair enough.” Lara pulled from her bottle. “Wanna stay out here a little longer? Sounds like the Henderson kid’s party is getting started. The louder the music, the more fun he and his friends are having. If we time it just right, we can make love to some of the cheesiest ballads of the early 2000s. Who wouldn’t want to orgasm to ‘Your Body is a Wonderland?’”

“You have serious issues.” Mouse took a swig of her own beer and curled up next to Lara, pressing herself against the other woman. “Think we can be louder than the music?”

  
  
  
  


“Well, don’t you look like death swallowed you whole and shat you back out.”

Marcus walked into the hospital room with an irrepressible grin and eyes bright with mirth. He was feeling effervescent. Why shouldn’t he? The sun was shining. He was in love. His friend was alive and alert after waking up from the coma despite being kept to his bed by a few tubes. All was well in the world right now.

“Get out. I can’t handle you like this.” 

Bennett sounded grumpy, which just improved Marcus’ mood.

“Like what?” he asked innocently.

“Happy.” Bennett scowled, pronouncing the word as though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Too damn bad. I _am_ happy and I’m not going anywhere.”

A low, annoyed groan slid out of the patient. “As for my appearance, I just survived being possessed by a god. Considering it was a god of death, I think if I look half as good as you just described then I'm pretty damn lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, luv.” 

Marcus pulled up a chair next to the bed and sank into it, allowing his long legs to stretch out before him; hands folded in his lap. His jacket tossed along with his messenger bag onto the table by the window where he took the chair.

“You're a fighter. Always have been.” He paused. “Do you remember anything?”

“Enough.” He didn’t look at his friend. “There was death. So much death. My hands will never be clean from what I did.”

“That wasn’t you.” There was enough heat behind his statement to get Bennett’s attention. “Or am I missing something? The Devon Bennett I know isn’t a cold-blooded killer.”

A short silence lingered between them.

“I’m still not. That doesn’t mean—”

“That’s _exactly_ what it means. What that thing did to those people was horrific and not at all justified. Mouse filled us in on what she came across between the time she left us up north and when she arrived here.”

“There’s so much more than even she knows.” His voice quiet and small, he felt as he sounded. Even Marcus couldn’t help but notice the fire had gone out of his friend.

“I’m listening.” The dark blond pulled his legs in and leaned over, placing a hand in Bennett’s open one nearest him.

The dark fingers closed around the light ones. “Another time. I need to process things a bit more first.”

Marcus nodded. A thought occurred to him. After all, Bennett was still a priest. He may prefer talking to one of his own. “If you’d prefer Tomas or maybe someone from the church here in town….”

“No.” Steel wrapped itself around the small word giving it power. It gave him some much needed comfort to know he still had that in him. Perhaps, there was hope for him, after all.

“You are the only person I will unburden myself to, Marcus. The only one who will understand and lay judgment.”

“Mouse has experience. She’s been possessed….” The words that were to follow died on his lips when he saw the determined look on Bennett’s face. He had decided.

“It’s been ages since I’ve taken confession.” 

Marcus wanted to do right by the other man. He knew how much this meant to Bennett. Hell, how much it meant to _him_. As much as he had chastised himself for not somehow saving his friend sooner, there was nothing he could have done. Tomas had drilled that into him time and again over the past few months. Finally, it had taken root.

“Like riding a bike.” Bennett’s mouth quirked. “I recall you being quite good at that. Came in handy in Salzburg.”

A hearty laugh erupted from Marcus. He fell back into his seat. “Nearly got us arrested.”

“ _Arrested?!_ Try deported. The government was this close,” Bennett held his forefinger and thumb together with only a sliver of space between them, “to getting involved. Leave it to you to nearly cause a diplomatic incident over Maria Von Trapp.”

“Thank God for those nuns. Never did finish that _Sound of Music_ tour. Still get a little misty when I catch the movie on telly.”

“That’s just your crush on Julie Andrews coming out. Not that I can blame you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Bennett, did you just admit to having a thing for Mary Poppins?”

A blush flushed his cheeks, so faint against his dark skin it was barely noticeable. “She was just so organized and in control. Nothing ever fazed her. Annoyed her, but that’s understandable.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus just had an epiphany. “How had I not noticed this before?”

Bennett gave him an alarmed look. Despite what they had been through over the past seven years, he never quite knew what to expect from his friend.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

“You think you’re bloody Mary Poppins, and that Tomas and I are the Banks children. What’s their names?”

“Jane and Michael.” 

The answer came grudgingly. He hated when Marcus figured him out. He also liked it, too. It was infuriating to always feel so conflicted when it came to him.

“You’re Michael, by the way. Always looking for a good time, but willing to do the work when the time comes. Of course, Tomas is Jane. The straight arrow who has to reign in his incorrigible partner in crime.” 

“Too true,” Marcus snorted, acknowledging the obvious. “Never gonna see that movie the same way again.”

Their conversation ebbed and they sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. It was nice Bennett had a private room. The neighborhood where the Roosevelt house sat had pitched in to ensure he received the best care. One of the residents volunteered to foot the bill. It didn’t hurt that he was a vice president for one of the major insurance companies.

Every morning, fresh flowers were delivered like clockwork to Bennett’s room and the older ones were donated to the hospital. They were used in a gardening program for those who were confined to the grounds, but able to get around.

After a few minutes lost in thought as he gazed at the flowers without seeing them, Marcus made an announcement. “The house is being exorcised this afternoon. Just before dusk.”

This caught Bennett’s attention. “Not just the three of you. Those spirits are too strong. Though they may be willing to move on now they’ve gotten their revenge.”

“You saw them?” It had never occurred to Marcus they would have been visible to anyone.

“Here and there,” Bennett admitted. “They did a number on Erlik before it got to us in the end. I honestly believe if it weren’t for them, that thing would have killed us both. We owe them so much.”

Marcus didn’t say anything. He replied with a nod. It wasn’t news to learn how close they had come to losing. How close _he_ had come to losing the love of his life and a dear friend. Tears brimmed his eyes, but he was able to blink them away.

“I wish you could be there with us. A bunch of mates Mouse and I know are coming in a few hours to help us handle it. None of us have any experience in that area, so we agreed it best to call in reinforcements. They’re going to hit the fairgrounds and the Bueckner farm tomorrow.”

“Something Marcus Keane doesn’t know. If I was strong enough, I’d faint from shock.”

He paused as if deliberating if he should speak more.

“I meant what I said when we talked that night in your old room at St. Aquinas. Wasn’t sure if you believed me.”

The curious look in Marcus’ blue eyes morphed into understanding. “I didn’t. Thought you were warning me of something. Told Tomas as much. The feeling’s mutual.”

“Until it’s not.”

A fond smile matched the gleam in the older man’s eyes. “Rest now. Can’t have you giving me shit from a hospital bed for the rest of your life. Need you chasing after me to tell me how much I’ve bollocksed things up.”

Bennett chuckled. His eyes grew heavy despite his desire to stay awake and spend more time with his friend. “You’ll leave if I do. No telling what you’ll get up to then.”

Grasping the other man’s hand once more, Marcus assured him, “I’m not going anywhere. Brought my sketchbook and charcoal since I knew I’d be stuck here watching your sorry arse snore.”

“Not as loud as you,” he fired back sleepily. Before he fell into a deep slumber, Bennett gave Marcus’ hand a squeeze.

“Sleep well, my friend. You’ve earned it.”

  
  
  
  


It was almost a week later when Marcus and Tomas were greeted by the chummy image of Mouse and Bennett in private conversation at the table in his hospital room. The priest had shown remarkable improvement over the intervening days, much to the delight and slight bewilderment of the staff. He wasn’t going to be participating in a marathon anytime soon as his doctor put it the day before, but if the healing continued apace, the physician wouldn’t rule one out a few months down the line.

Bennett had started taking short walks along the corridors in the past couple days and sitting at the table for a half-hour at a time. He relished the change of scenery or even perspective, but it was being out of that damn bed that he loved most of all. Being at the mercy of other people was something he abhorred. So used to taking care of himself was he that he prayed for a little assistance while pushing his body as far as he could without causing any detriment.

He and Mouse had been in discussion for nearly forty-five minutes — the longest he had been allowed to sit in a chair since having his body back under his auspices. The extended stay began to take its toll, but it had been worth it. 

She had no sooner arrived when his doctor walked in for his morning checkup. After reading the updated chart on his iPad, he smiled at Bennett.

“Good news! Barring any unforeseen turns, you can be released in a few days. I wouldn’t advise long-distance travel as I’d like to schedule at least a couple follow-up visits. Would that be possible? Do you have a place you can recuperate?”

“He does.” Mouse declared it so before Bennett even had a chance to absorb what the physician had told him. “He’ll be staying with my girlfriend and I in Preston. Will he need to sleep in a reclined position? There’s a couch with a pull-out bed we thought would work.”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, that will do just fine.” He glanced at his patient. “My guess is you’ll be able to sleep normally soon enough. This is just a precaution. I take it you’re okay with your accommodations?”

Bennett scowled at Mouse. “It doesn’t seem as if I have much choice.”

“You don’t,” she replied tersely. In a kinder tone, she added, “They’re not going to stick around when there are people who need their help. As much as Marcus will fight it, fight to stay by your side, he’ll go and at your insistence.”

An annoyed sigh blew out of Bennett. Mouse was right. He hated that she was and less than thrilled he would have to relinquish Marcus back to Tomas. The older man had been to visit every day to Bennett’s growing delight. His friend would arrive by eleven in the morning and stay till five in the afternoon. Sure, they squabbled. That’s just who they were. It was part of the fun of their relationship. 

Not that everyone shared their definition of fun. Bennett knew neither Tomas nor Mouse understood their dynamic. He wasn’t sure he and Marcus did either come to that, but it was theirs and they enjoyed it immensely.

That said, he would never stand in the way of a soul in distress. Especially when the best man for the job was playing nursemaid to him of all people. No, Marcus was best out in the field with Tomas by his side, saving people and exorcising demons. 

Bennett had been surprised when Marcus revealed he and Tomas were in a romantic relationship. Mainly because he thought Marcus was too devoted to his work to be interested in anything long term. Also, because he thought Tomas was too young and naïve to keep his friend’s interest.

Then, he had spent an hour with the man while Marcus was having lunch with a blue friend — or maybe their name was Blue? It was a bit of blur as he had just come back from a short walk that had sapped his energy more than he had expected. 

Regardless, Tomas had impressed Bennett in that short amount of time. The priest remembered their time in the mindscape that housed Marcus’ old room at St. Aquinas after Tomas had left his hospital room that day. Bennett had to admit Marcus and Tomas were a good fit. He hoped to see them together soon to confirm for himself what they had already figured out themselves.

As for Mouse, he hadn’t a clue about her personal life and he was fine with that. Although now it seemed Bennett would be getting a rare peek behind the curtain. Once the doctor left, she helped him out of the bed, into his robe and slippers, and over to the table. No sooner had he been seated did he demand to know why he hadn’t been told first about what would happen after he was released from the hospital.

“For the exact reason I told you.” The grit in her voice brokered no arguments. “And to pay a debt.”

“What happened to me is no one’s fault but my own.” His words were leaden with guilt and shame.

Sitting opposite, she shook her head. “I abandoned you in that bloody hospital in Spokane when I should have kept watch over you and taken out anyone who tried to harm you.”

“You did the right thing going to Marcus and Tomas. I know how you kept an eye on Tomas after Marcus left. There’s no debt. It was my own hubris that led me to my fate.”

Mouse watched Bennett for a long moment. “Tomas told you?” She shrugged. “It was a babysitting gig. He took care of himself.”

“They both did, actually. He has quite the gift. I’m not sure even if he is aware of the power he possesses.”

“He doesn’t. Or at least, I don’t think he does. Marcus has an inkling. Pretty sure God shared something with him, but I’m not sure what. Whatever it was was the impetus for his return.”

Bennett cocked his head. “You weren’t happy Marcus came back. What did you have planned for Tomas?”

She sighed. “Nothing he wouldn’t have regretted in the long run. Hell, I probably would have wished I had just left well enough alone. Whatever my reasons at the time for being less than thrilled with Marcus rejoining us, I do believe we are stronger together. You helped me realize this.”

A snort cut through the air. “My godly possessor, you mean.”

“No. I mean _you._ ” Mouse leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “If you hadn’t fought your way back to yourself while I hung from that noose in the barn, we wouldn’t be here right now. Initially, I had thought I meant Marcus, Tomas and myself. I see now it’s really the four of us.”

“We’re going to have to protect him,” Bennett said suddenly. “There’s no way they won’t try to take him out or corrupt him.”

“Pretty sure they mean you, luv.”

Their heads turned toward the door, where Marcus and Tomas stood side by side. No one said a word for a moment as the gravity of the situation sunk in. The war that had been brewing had slammed its way into their lives once more. Erlik was just the first of who knew how many bigger battles to come.

“Let them try,” Tomas declared.


	29. Chapter 29

#  Epilogue

“You’re sure about this? He’s a right pain in the arse.”

“We all have our cross to bear.”

“Oy!”

Mouse and Tomas roared at Marcus’ righteous indignation. They had gathered at the front door of Lara’s house to say their goodbyes. Behind them, in the backyard, their farewell party was starting to wind down. Everyone had come to send them off: John Mitchum, the Jemson’s, Blue Tortorella, Agnes Butcher.

By the grace of God, the party remained a secret from the couple. More than once, it had nearly come to light thanks to a slip of the tongue here and a bit of bad timing there. All the stress and planning had been worth it to see Marcus’ and Tomas’ faces when their friends yelled, “Surprise!” as they stepped into the backyard that afternoon.

The late fall barbeque had been a rousing success. Conversation flowed along the pair of picnic tables that had been pushed together end to end to accommodate the guests. Hot dogs, burgers, kielbasa and vegetables wrapped in foil hit the grill, while bowls of chips in a variety of flavors lined the tops of the tables. The two coolers were filled with ice, beer, hard cider, sodas and water. When darkness fell, out came the marshmallows, chocolate bars and graham crackers. S’mores were the dessert of choice to everyone’s glee.

As with most gatherings, people broke into small groups. Tomas and Bennett finally were introduced to Blue. They instantly understood why Marcus was taken with the young woman as they had a similar sensibility. Marcus confessed to Tomas that Blue reminded him of his late friends, Cherry and Lester Rego. He had met them in Chicago. They were caught in the crossfire of this war, of which the exorcists were now a part. 

Halley Louise bounced between Mouse, and Marcus and Tomas. She was shy around Bennett at first, but warmed up to him as the festivities wore on. Meg and Morgan had a similar reaction initially. They trusted their friends though and spent a fair part of the evening getting to know Bennett.

At this point, it was after ten at night, and Marcus and Tomas had an early wakeup call ahead of them. As their time was up at the motel, they had decided it was a sign for them to hit the road. Bennett had been released from the hospital about a week ago. He was on the mend and in good hands. Mouse and Lara continued to take care of him and, to his surprise, he enjoyed staying with them.

“I’ll leave your arse here,” Marcus mock threatened now. “I did it once. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”

“You wouldn’t make it to the state line,” Tomas teased, his hand pressed against the small of his boyfriend’s back and a smug grin on his lips.

“Because _I_ would have you pulled over just so I can shove him in the car,” Mouse interjected drolly. “It’s one thing to be the one obnoxiously smitten with a lover, it’s a whole other thing to have to watch it.”

The men chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“This is a much better sendoff than the last time we were all together,” Tomas observed. 

He still believed deep down he should have gone with Marcus all those months ago despite what the older man had said. But he also had faith that everything happened for a reason. 

“Absolutely.” 

Marcus knew what Tomas thought. The fact his lover didn’t press it meant they were moving past it. He was happy about that; preferring to enjoy the present and look forward to their future. Despite whatever outside forces may be plotting, Marcus was optimistic.

“Am I too late?” Bennett approached the trio with the aid of his cane. It was his new best friend and he detested the sight of it.

“Just in time,” Mouse assured him.

The couple caught each other’s eyes. Marcus glanced back at his friends, eyebrow arched. Tomas viewed them warily. He sensed an ambush.

Bennett raised his eyes heavenward, his sigh heavy with exasperation. “Not everything is a plot against you. Just take the damn gift and say, ‘Thank you.’”

“Gift?” 

Tomas’ expression changed. He was intrigued and more than a little shocked that either of them would give anything without expecting something in return. His outlook may be less than charitable, he conceded. Then again, he had spent those months when Marcus was in exile with Mouse and he had gotten to know her rather well, for better and for worse. As for Bennett, he had his boyfriend’s tales and his own limited experience from which to pull.

Not that he wasn’t fond of them both.

“I’ll bite.” Marcus enjoyed the air of intrigue swirling around them. He held out his free hand as his other arm was hooked around Tomas’ waist. “What did you get us? A cloaking device? 

“If it’s an apple from a certain garden, pretty sure this one and I already ate it.” He bobbed his head sideways at Tomas.

Mouse glared at him. “Changed my mind. You can’t have it. Now, piss off the pair of you.”

“Oh for Chrissake, woman! Just give them the bloody key!” Bennett growled. “Should have known this couldn’t be a nice moment.”

“Key?” Tomas inquired. “Key to what?”

She pressed the key into Marcus’ hand, groove down, out of spite. The sense of satisfaction she received out of him seeing him wince was fleeting. “After everything that went down since you’ve been here—”

“Since you’ve been back,” Bennett corrected, looking at Marcus, knowledge of his friend’s short demise still fresh in his mind.

Marcus held Bennett’s gaze for a few seconds in acknowledgement before turning his attention to Mouse.

“Right. Anyway, the three of us were talking and that is the key to Lara’s family’s cabin. It’s in the western end of the state. You’ll have a lake as your backyard and there’s, like, three state forests surrounding it for you to get lost in.

“Enjoy it for as long as you like. Just give us a shout when you go and leave the key under the mat.”

The couple stared at the key sitting in Marcus’ palm. No words would form for the longest time as they struggled to sort their feelings. It was such an unexpected gesture and quite touching. Tomas rested his bearded cheek against Marcus’ shoulder, his free hand hesitantly reached out to test if it was real. It was.

“This is too much,” Tomas protested. “We didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“He’s right.” As much as he agreed, however, Marcus couldn’t quite find the strength to return the key. So, it continued to lay in his palm.

Bennett stepped forward and curled Marcus’ fingers over the grooved piece of silver. With that simple gesture, the matter was settled.

———

The cabin was everything they could have wanted. Remote, quiet and peaceful. It had electricity, running water and decent cell reception. No television or landline to be found, though there was a record player with a small vinyl collection in the living room, and an old working radio on the bar dividing that room and the kitchen.

After bringing their few bags inside and getting settled, Tomas grabbed a shower to freshen up. He and Marcus had opted not to take one this morning as they had accidentally overslept. It was imperative they were checked out by noon. They woke up at eleven-thirty. Luckily, everything had been packed before they left for what turned out to be their goodbye party instead of the lowkey dinner they thought they were attending.

“It’s all yours and, I must say, the water pressure is wonderful,” Tomas announced to an empty bedroom.

Marcus had said he would lay down on the bed after insisting Tomas take the inaugural shower. The younger man had even purposely entered naked, save for the leather cord binding the St. Benedict’s medal to his right wrist, expecting to see his boyfriend waiting for him. Quickly, he dressed and walked back out to the main area. Where was Marcus? A glance out the patio door gave him his answer.

The sound of crunching leaves underfoot tipped off Marcus that Tomas had found him. He smiled in anticipation of those strong arms wrapping around him from behind. When it happened shortly thereafter, Marcus melted into the embrace. Turning his head, he nuzzled Tomas’ neck before pressing his nose to the freshly washed skin and inhaling deeply.

“You smell wonderful,” Marcus purred.

“That shower is a miracle,” Tomas declared. He smiled when his boyfriend kissed the spot he had just smelled. “You missed the show. Came into the bedroom all ready for you.”

A low moan from Marcus. “Any chance for an encore later?”

Tomas chuckled. “I think that can be arranged. But only if I get one of my own first.”

One of the hands that was around Marcus’ waist, traveled south to cup his groin. “I’ve missed you, baby. Have you missed me?”

“So much, luv.” To prove his point, Marcus rubbed his ass against Tomas’ crotch. His eyes closed as he enjoyed this long-awaited moment of intimacy.

With everything that had happened since exorcising Erlik, it had been more than two weeks since they had made love. Bennett’s health had taken top priority as had the spiritual cleansing of the Roosevelt house, the Bueckner farm and, at Tomas’ insistence, the fairgrounds where the carnival had been held. 

The house’s cleansing had gone perfectly, though it took some time to make sure the exorcism had been done right. It was not an easy ritual to perform. Especially with as many spirits that had taken up residence there over the centuries. A simpler affair was the fairgrounds, as it wasn’t nearly as affected as the house. Neither was the farm.

Most nights since Erlik’s vanquishing, they had collapsed into the motel room bed out of sheer exhaustion. Neither had experienced such a packed social schedule in all their lives. Even Tomas, who had been quite popular when he ran St. Anthony’s parish, had never eaten so many meals in people's homes. While dinners were usually with the Jemson’s, their neighbors had taken turns with breakfasts and lunches, and even the occasional afternoon tea. As a result, sleep won out over sex.

Until now. With an open schedule and a cozy cabin all to themselves, there was little doubt they would make up for lost time.

Marcus opened his eyes. His body stilled. 

“Querido?” Concern filled Tomas as he stared at his love’s profile. _Please don’t let our time be cut short. We just found each other._

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? How the sunlight plays on the water of the lake?”

Tomas pulled his gaze away from Marcus to look out at the scenery before him. It was a stunning view. He felt his pulse slow to a regular pace as he took in the sight.

“It is.” 

A small silence fell over them. The sun would be lowering into the horizon soon. 

“Shall we grab a seat on the shoreline? It should be a lovely sunset.”

Turning to face him, Marcus captured Tomas’ mouth in the most sensuous kiss. Without a word, he took his boyfriend’s hand and led him down to where the grass ended and the sand began. 

They sat with Tomas in front and Marcus behind him; the dark blond’s arms resting over his boyfriend’s shoulders. Marcus pressed a kiss into the crown of Tomas’ dark curls as the sun began its descent.

“I love you, Tomas,” he whispered into the other man’s ear. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“I want to share everything with you, Marcus.” Tomas lolled his back onto his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I love you so much.”

He brushed his lips against Marcus’, running his tongue along Marcus’ bottom lip until he was granted access. Lost in the taste and feel of each other, neither noticed when the sun disappeared. It was just them now and that’s all that mattered.


End file.
